By Johan Alstad
Faint memories emerge before the start.
A pilgrim on a quest; not everything as it seems.
Something that brought it to my attention.
A sword of peace, a shield of war.
It doesn't exist but it matters, making me uneasy.
It's like so much else, just distractions.
But in my mind I have a lingering doubt.
First I was lost in an unknown arena; not understanding.
Inflicted upon me was more than I saw.
Now its obfuscated, revealing minor sequences.
Iwas lost in my effort to avoid treachery and deviancy.
I have found the broken path among the traps.
The course of freedom hidden by submission.
Forever its hidden in plain sight what becomes of this.
Whats encouraged cannot come from anything but dark corners.
On the strands of desolation with a horn of alarm.
Clad to the unknown from those before.
The first vanguard.
Perhaps the least of the last.
But the best among the first.
Heimdall fades so Cronopher emerges.
That's the untold tales.
The rise from ashes for a race.