writing Emerald and Amber

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

I have followed this same path in life for far longer than I care to remember. Seeing the same sights of the world before me, always in an emerald blur of false hopes and dreams of both the innocent and the corrupted. A stylized sky of amber lights that decorate the dreary nights in which we find ourselves alone, and searching. Upon this path, surrounded by these sights, is what I was meant to do, for what else serves to be the point of a life in which knowledge is the damning truth? If I knew nothing at all, then perhaps these sights, these emerald shades and amber lights, perhaps then they would hold an appeal to me and my weary eyes. I know not of the whole truth which shapes everyday, only a fair half, and it is with knowing such that comes my destined damnation. I walk to here and there, always on this path which rises and falls in a cyclical pattern. Always oblivious and always aware all the same, of the truth and lies that were long ago intertwined to the point that they are unrecognizable as either. Rather, they are a new truth, and a new lie all the same. Something that we can tell ourselves in the dawning night to soothe our hearts and minds. Perhaps this is what leads to our state of ignorance.

 

I only ask for what I know I can never have. To live without such blurs of false emerald dreams and speckled amber shades that allure me so. I only find myself wishing for a new dream to believe in, one which could take shape and fulfill the purpose of another being. I can only hope… and to such is why the blurs of emerald and amber still stir within my heart, even though I know they bear no truth, but also no lies as well.

 

-David Favret