I’m still chasing ghosts –
Perhaps in fear.
Perhaps in love.
Perhaps in loathing.
I’m still searching,
Though I don’t know what I’ve lost,
Or what I yearn to find –
Though I’ve long been petrified by the glare of phantoms.
I’d rather be guided by these demons
Than wander alone.
I’d rather be preyed upon by illusions
Than strive for the nihilism of truth.
I’d rather succumb to this affliction
Than hope for the frailty of a cure.
I’d rather burn
Than wade into these tides,
Only to be assailed
And cast back to the shore.
I am incarcerated in twilight,
And bound in flame.