THE ROAD IS YOURS...

The road is narrow and the road is long. There is no gap, and there is no joining. You walk the walk because it needs to be done...and you have no real choice. A life is lived regardless of living. Bang the cymbal and rejoice, or drum your fingers on the empty table - same difference, different space. Swear and fuck yourself to eternity, or slap shoulders with your brethren and seek peace...all part of the illusion. So break open those leather wings, hidden behind leather jackets with scratched and scrawled affirmations like: "be me, not you", "my soul is old", "take me four times", and "we are dead and dying". Open your webbed hands and see them for what they are, no longer hidden by skin tight gloves of amber and charcoal. Kick off your shoes and thump the calloused stumps that are your feet, and always were, sigils rising through ankle, calf, knee, and thigh. You are the angel, elohim for the one day that lasts the eternity. The road is yours, it weaves around your chest and groin, you force its direction through heart and lust...you never knew, you never asked, you never cared.