Mirrors and Echoes

When the Crowe Flies Straight Infinite

Mirrors and Echoes

By John Sills

Mirrors, echoes, endgame. All of this spins inside my head as I stare into my past from different eyes.

I have become a different man since last I opened my wings

Now once again I'm back at the table.

Back whispering in the dead of night thoughts that weigh heavy on my mind.

I got six in the chamber and a heart drowned in honey whiskey.

With mirrors and echoes deafening my mind.

Mirrors of a past faded by the dust of time.

Memories of who I was , how it plays out like a symphony of sorrow.

Echoes of fragments in time. How they define us. Regardless how we defend

Fragments I need to let go of and yet keep close to my heart.

My life is complicated and soaked in the myths and legends that have risen within my time,

When a crows flies straight he focuses his mind on his direction. In slow motion you can see his wings unfurl and his eyes still locked on whats before him.

When I began this I knew I wanted to change my life for the better for the good of all.

I was a warrior a soldier looking for a way to lay down my sword.

I wanted to regain honor set the wrongs I've caused into a motion of healing.

Resolve my sins into a conclusion.

This is still my goal however my thoughts have changed. I realized that what I once found safe, that what kept me safe and sane was merely a cage I imprisoned myself in so I couldn't feel, so that I was numb to all the was around.

Now I find myself expanding on the concept of Echoes.

How they move in our lives without anyone knowing.

Look around your life. Look with eyes unburdened by desire and greed.

Everything you believe love, or hold sacred is a part of a conditioning of your heritage and how you were raised.

Allow me to lay an example by your feeet. I was born into the sound of chaos.

At one time my company was that of hatred and those of whiter hue.

Although there rested this hope that one day we may see a day when the color of ones skin mattered as much as the marital status of the number 8

which is no matter at all.

In my youth I dreamed of a world where rightousness rested on the wings of angels. Justice was as swft as a samurai's sword.

I craved a world where no matter your sex, gender, color of your skin, sexual prefrence you were equal , left alone, hell you were just another human being making your way towards the dreams of all. Happiness and Peace.

At no point in my life could I ever truly understand what it means to be a different race than I am, the only thing I truly understand is what it means to be me.

I saw the wrong, I saw all the hateful things done in the face of justice by those who filled their hearts with hate and misguided notions of seperation

Now in a moment of time I look back , I reach back into my past

seeking truth in all the riddles.

Why did the movie play out like it did.

Why do I feel the way I do , yet condemn those who wish to play in the jester's garden of evil where the shadow of deathe looms over all.

As I sit laughing at six in the chamber and the fact it doesn't exsist at all.

I never held cold steel to my temple, I knew long ago I would never be the end of my soul.

As all those who have seen the horrors that lie within the demon's eyes

I may long for death as sweet as the release of guilt and shame,

but I knew I would keep walking , keep seeking redemption from the things i've done wrong in my life.

You see these echoes that silence me, I discover are apart of us all.

Things we've done we wish we could have acted better.

We long for a chance to do things right, heal those we've crossed and caused to cry tears of despair

So we stare at a choice of what is easy and what is right

Do I forsake so much just to rescue the innocence I left long ago.

Do I do what I must to rebuild the bridges torched in the chaos of life.

In the end I am exhausted, of putting on the smile, and the polite courtesy just to make others feel special.

I know it is a part of me, within me, but has the hands tick my life way I care less and less of what others think and more about how I want to be remembered do I leave a legacy of pain , or sacrifice some just to make my life Meaningful.

I will retun to this in the morning.

When the haze of whiskey leaves.