Archaec

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 If thinking is wrong, I don't wish to be right. If dreaming is wrong, I don't wish to be right. 

Photo by Shirly Niv Marton on Unsplash
 

Is this not a false life, shorn of meaning?

I dream of endless betterment. Lofty dreams made painful by their emptiness. 

Every guide I ever knew has disappeared into the aether, leaving behind something as naive and childlike as the day we began. 

Am I a scholar turned warrior, or a warrior turned king? Who was I really, truly meant to be? 

Looking past the
illusion and the lies told to save the dreams of another, I find... nothing. 

Was there ever meant to be another? Is there a truth hidden beneath the layers of deceit and self defense? 

Was what could have been, killed before it could grow to be? 

Seen through the lens of a cowardly tyrant, a silenced seer, a lost radiant... 

can it ever be more than yet another lie? 

 

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