Lunch then. An hour once, when the illusion of happiness still existed. An hour of torment, after loves illusion shattered. An hour of numbness, as pain fades into apathy. An hour of parting clouds, as storms pass to nothing. An hour of cautious optimism, as sanguine sky's open. An hour of solitude, as isolation lends deceptive comfort . Lunch now. An hour of truth, as warmth is found in retinue.
Retinue is a odd choice of words. It means a group of retainers, or ones who lift up one of importance. I'm not sure of my importance, but through friends here, I feel that I matter. Thank you my friends for that gift. I have spent a lot of time staring at the ground. These days I seem to gaze at the sky and dreaming about flight. Maybe someday I will. |