In Aeternum

Another year passes and I find myself turning to the same pages. To you, I bequeath my history.

The book flips open as a melody appropriately haunts the airwaves. Everyone has a hometown - a place where they are never lost. I am never lost when I look into her face. I fly above her, worn and wrinkled, brown from sun and age. She is my beauty, the story I can never tell, the words that cannot seem to form inside my lips.

I go to a place of unnamed streets. The dirt lanes collide into one another like the traffic. I go, facing a nation without hope -
Yet they are a people that know my heart, that see the darkness, that stumble, too, around the concept of grace. They are beautiful in their despair while I stand in faith among them. Knowing there will be a day when their eyes will become open. Until then, I walk quietly among them.

I have not found what I am looking for. I live my life to be somewhere else. Anywhere.
I am the fringe. I feel this more than ever on a day like today. I am in the silent place - the route to where I am the most myself. It is, it seems, a long journey through a darkness that ends with hope. It is all I have to give. Here, and only here, I have nothing and yet I am everything.

The desperateness eats me alive, and yet I am happy to give myself away. To something that matters. There is life in eternity. A whole world built in the fabric and dust that plays in the desert wind.