At the Dawn

At the dawn of a new era, when all things that are old can again claim newness, do I stand alone yet again. In the crackle of artificial stardust that dies in an instant, many do celebrate, but I stand alone yet again. I’ve been cast and tempered in this forge of shadows and isolation so many times, that I have been hardened to the feeling.

But, as the night of the past year draws to a close, and the dawn of something new begins, I feel it resonate within me yet again. For what is time or age to someone with no memories and too few attachment? Can one who straddles that line of life and death become reborn on that resetting of the calendar?

There is no answer.

For like everything in life, such questions are left to invisible patterns and chaotic games of chance, all one an do is leave it to hope. But hope is hard to muster when things have followed a pattern of sadness and disappointment for one’s entire life. But is is the sign of a weak man to be so defeated, even after being beaten down for a lifetime.

At the dawn of a new era, I am cautious, but not defeated. And I allow the first rays of sunlight to hit me, and use them to guide my path yet again.