Tristan Robert Lange

Flickering Shadows

Upon the setting of the eternal day,
And the descent to a world of blackened night,
What was once a welcomed, beloved dream
Becomes an unwelcomed and tormented nightmare!

To where has all of this been taken?
To where shall all of this be brought?
Life is but a series of darkened shadows
Flickering beneath eternity\'s hellish flame.

What was once alive, vigorous, and divine,
Has been crucified, tortured, and abandoned.
What was once filled with passionate, love,
Has been hollowed out with the spade of time.

It is in this moment of painful reflection,
This agonizing moment of realized despair,
That one finally reaches the depths,
The eternal depths of hopeless existence.

Yet who wants to lose hope?
Who, in all of life, wants to be hopeless?
It is experience that betrays and arrests us,
It is knowledge that blinds and binds us to hope.

For what is ever truly known about anything?
What experience can be counted as truly real?
Knowledge is beneath the flickering shadows,
Experience is all that we really know.

Yet what measure of experience holds truth?
We are trapped in the shadow lands of the gods,
Trapped beneath the weight of knowledge,
And trapped beneath the reality of not knowing.

What could be known about each other,
Is forever lost amongst the flickering shadows.
What was once alive and full of vigor,
Is now slumped over a table of tribulation.