A vessel to reconstruct fate, in my own hands awaits, but I cannot move. Reflections in glass still fail me, and my body is an empty vow. I'm forced into instinct, buried beneath uncertainty as if going forward without choice. But is it forward?
It starts with time, and if I've lost myself, time is all I have to reclaim my thoughts. Moments in passing, but lifetimes in the making, my journey eclipses distance, and here I am, or now I am, so far from home but so much closer than I've ever known. I'm walking forward, but a straight arrow can spend a lifetime revolving in a futile clock.
And freedom expects me even in the past. A thousand years of traveling couldn't find me the map I'd need to escape from this maze. I have no footprints to follow and no warm hands to hold for comfort. But I face myself and endless nightmares made real, and make my move to end the questions.
Lo and behold, there are no mistakes in time.
It starts with time, and if I've lost myself, time is all I have to reclaim my thoughts. Moments in passing, but lifetimes in the making, my journey eclipses distance, and here I am, or now I am, so far from home but so much closer than I've ever known. I'm walking forward, but a straight arrow can spend a lifetime revolving in a futile clock.
And freedom expects me even in the past. A thousand years of traveling couldn't find me the map I'd need to escape from this maze. I have no footprints to follow and no warm hands to hold for comfort. But I face myself and endless nightmares made real, and make my move to end the questions.
Lo and behold, there are no mistakes in time.