the mediation of hope

so i'll let time bring me back, and i'll keep my fingers crossed that the snow has not buried my throne. so many promises i did not keep, and so many dreams to carry me safe from my emptiness... i was built on high expectations, and those foundations, insubstantial, shift beneath me like quicksand; i climbed high enough to distance myself from reality, but i waver in altitude sick with fear and frustrated aspirations. i will not move any higher from this place, but i will not jump. sighing, i've begun climbing down already; i've killed enough dreams to accept myself ordinary, and there's nothing i want more, nothing i ache for more, than the all-consuming comfort of home.

the seasons will have changed without me, and i return so much the same, so much humbled in my presumption, i will have brought with me the measurements of the sky... a filthy sky to render beautiful a forsaken hometown, a crowded sky to shape as serene my petty isolation.
and when those who have not yet accepted me welcome my return, i will feel no contempt, only a strange comfort, acceptance of familiarity.
although how any child should escape my defining tragedy i cannot fathom, beyond my ceaseless differentiation we will find ourselves circling the same prize, and we will find each other fascinated by the gap in our identical human nature.
with all my resentment, and for all my plastered self-awareness, i've only been lazy and rejected. accept me as such, thrive not in an elusive comparison, and we again, we again shall be friends.

All we are, we are
And days go by with us
Revolving imperfect, picturesque
We will accept, allow reality to be
Significant

Honour the oaths of plight
And breathe in deeply
The light of every window

For we caged birds must sing
Sing to make this hearth
The center of our universe

To give without purpose
To supersede the strive

Wouldn't it save you
Wouldn't it save you