...this darkened way...

It takes it's toll in all these little ways. That song, those words, the view from the hill. Boils down to burned neural pathways as they slowly rewrite themselves. A horror creeps below the surface, lanced deep into the psyche. So much given, so little returned. All the years stack up. Built a wall so high that no light reaches the bottom. No warmth at the cold dark core. Gentle caresses, loving words, an eye with that special glint. Gone and forgotten. The need lies under it all. Desire for a thing of warmth, truth and trust. Built of quiet moments and raucous abandon. Little meals, made lovingly, shared on summer evenings. Dirty hands finding each other at days end, weary, but content. Golden light taken in on the regular, some fermented beverage in hand. Melodies play behind the eyes. Recounting all that has transpired. A tune rich in longing and desire. Notes linger in the melodic minor, their voices raised in the shaping of tale. A story long and torchorus, filled with all the hate and falsehoods of daytime television. There is no moral to the tale, only sound and fury, told by an idiot. It signifies nothing.