Sometimes you just have to move.
Shake the chains, shatter the shackles.
Take a step until the step becomes a stride.
Amble into nothingness with pain at your side,
and your heart shielded
from the expectation of darkness or light.
Guided neither by memories aching to exist
nor hope that struggles to survive.
Only through time time is conquered.
Inertia becomes momentum.
Let it take you where it will —
the stars, depths of blue oceans, cracked river banks of mud, or into the fevered arms of love.
All is permissible to all, except for the doorman.
Break the gates to the garden.
Clutch at roots, don’t let life spill through like water.
Compulsion (Martin L. Gore)
* Only through time time is conquered – T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
© 2017 The Wasted Love Song
In response to daily prompt: Amble