Under the Green Desk Lamp…
The following post is part of ‘The Evocation Series’. Click Here for more information about the project, and to learn how to get involved yourself!
Blind Guardian- ‘Mirror Mirror’
It’s a strange thing sometimes, to be a writer. Every once in a while, we must crawl out from our literary dens and take in the world around us. Like the groundhog portending the coming of spring we peek out, and a quick glimpse will usually suffice to fill us with sufficient terror and inspiration to send us scurrying back—loaded with ideas, and themes, and a terrible suspicion that the shock of venturing forth may simply not be worth it.
In the silence,
Words of wisdom.
I’ve seen the end of all,
Be aware the storm gets closer.
So, we settle into routine—reporting our fears and hopes from our places of silence and serenity. But what of the world without? The one we use to fuel our stories and mad speculations? As we create better, more hopeful worlds, what is left to those on the outside, living each day the sort of wild fantasies which we delegate to the domain of ink and paper?
Shall I leave my friends alone,
Hidden in my twilight hall?
I know the world is lost in fire,
Sure there is no way to turn it
Back to the old days.
There are moments of reprieve, no doubt. Short periods where the balance appears to be righting itself, and there seems to be some hope for the world. We can get lost in those moments. Still, the keen eye catches the small details, and it is clear, at the end of the day, that the hearts of humanity have not changed, and the course is still set for disaster.
The storm calmed down.
The bitter end,
Is just a matter of time.
So, we create the heroes we need. We conjure them out of nothing and trap them with our words. We paint them clear as day—the honest men and women and hopeful children who could change this world in but a day if they were to unilaterally muster their passion for the purposes of decency and reinvention. They look good on those pages. Kind, beautiful, and utterly beyond our grasp.
Mirror Mirror on the wall,
True hope lies beyond the coast.
You’re a damned kind can’t you see,
That the winds will change?
In the end though, they are only stories after all.
-Brad OH Inc.