I RUN MY THOUGHTS down this endless garden of exile hoping it’ll reach the avenue of broken mirrors where dim lights of the damned never bounce back; hoping it’ll get through the tip of the light to see if there’s still a way out. It’s forever dark in here and not even a little glimpse of light from any corner peeps through. I’ve been down this tunnel crawling this ever wide endless aisle of darkness yet I’m never halfway yet. I keep moving taking a turn after another yet it keeps on leading me back to where I started. I wonder if there’s still light at the end of this tunnel. I wonder if there’s still a chance. I wonder if hope is still defined exactly as it should be.
IN THIS GARDEN of exile, the exile sleeps all day like I do dreaming of how the light, that never exists, looks like. Thinking of how it would make an obvious difference from this glaring face of darkness. Or, maybe, the word light is now nothing but an empty word for it never makes any sense dreaming of something you never had any idea of.
FOR ONE BLOW of fate. If I get myself out of the dark, will I be able to distinguish the difference between dark and light? Will I make it in the daylight? Will I survive out there? I may only be half there since all my life I’ve larked here in the dark of a never ending aisle of this garden of exile.