Unwritten Paths

My past is a faith that never leaves me.
So many times I've seen its endless resurrection
Reaching to dissect whatever I've pieced together

My present is a constant mask I must never remove
for fear of accepting my prologue


My future is ballad not written but told in my eyes
Whatever's let of me will drown
in painted legends and mysteries

My epilogue will be faint whispers
of a forgotten age born out of fire and despair.