Protruding Arrow of Truth
By R. Cary
Mountains, thunderstorms, raining flames from Hade's wrath. My vision blinded the horizon thickened. From Mt. Olympus I stretch my bow towards my landscape. Each line my horizon conquered each end stop another mountain to appear. My grimacing felt, I launch my arrow for truth to protrude. My lines, a story of what has been seen, what is to be seen, what has been traversed, what will be traversed. This is my duty, as a writer, displaying my journey, experiences, perceptions. Each line proof of a diamond’s reflection, proof of the shadow's truth. I constantly stare at a single drop of rain from all distances and lengths from my valleys. Where it came from, where it will land, when it will be seen, the river’s creation, the river’s end, an ocean of belief, life still not understood. Into the waves I go, a new landscape revealed, a darkness misunderstood. The moon pulling my tides of belief to be washed back ashore. Cleansed, rinsed, new visions to become. As the sun rises, my new land revealed. I climb upward, along the mountain’s edge reaching, stretching. My bow expands, shimmering light insights my intentions and again, piercing for visions anew, I launch my protruding arrow of truth.
End
Protruding Arrow of Truth
By R. Cary
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