All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind is part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter into another.
A King may move a man, a father may claim a son. That man can also move himself. And only then does that man truly begin his own game. Remember that howsoever you are played, or by whom, your soul is in your keeping alone. Even though those who presume to play you be kings or men of power. When you stand before God, you cannot say ‘but I was told by others to do thus’ or that ‘virtue was not convenient at the time.’ This will not suffice. Remember that.
We froze but for a moment in apathy. Brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug. You gave my emptiness a name and you ran away. Now all my friends are gone. Maybe we’ve outgrown all the things we once loved? Run away, what are we running from?
