The weight of what went wrong

Day, night, night... day… and this awakening filled with dreams that, for some reason, dawned too fragile to be dreamt again. It could happen that, like the photograph, they turned out overexposed or too deep in shadow, or that their lights might wish to play in alternative realities, among some not-so-lucid logbooks, or be nothing but wet paper dissolving away.

And within, that voice pleading for calm: come on, you’ve done well. The weight of all that went wrong should no longer rest upon your shoulders; they are but stones along the path, and who knows if, after all, it is not what you think…

Now the melodies are extreme. They pierce the bones, there is a disguised coldness in everything I touch.

So I search for my voice beneath my legs, in the strain, in the misstep, seeking where to hold on in order to end this cycle, awaiting blessedness.

I would ask you to hold me tight, not to pull at my threads in your stubbornness to sink into the void. It is proven, even angels have those moments when they seem to surrender…

SYML is killing me!

The nights here are ever dark. I cannot... I will not let my light fade...

And this is my entry in the #Monomad Challenge!

SYML - Breathtaker

_{Original content by @nanixxx.} _{All rights reserved ©, 2025.

Every image I include in my posts is mine. When it’s not, I credit the source in a caption.}