I walk there. It does not matter. I walk away, a scene follows. Temporary but permanent, a fleeting moment can turn solid. Horror insures. I can be lost at whim, but only I can choose to be found. The decision lays with me, but I tremble under the weight. Confusion is a haunting disease, driving me mad. I look to my pen to guide me safely home. Sometimes that even leaves me. I can run, the beach calling me with its songs of woe. Beauty, a kiss on the heart, caressing me with delicate fingers. The moon draws me forth, a celestial guardian who seeks company in her solitude. Luna I say, where is Sol? She speaks of sadness, a lonely lover.
A tear escapes, a gentle reminder that I am human and understand the human spirit. I am not alone in this confusion. Not as long as Luna guides me with her light.