charm

There is charm in the mystery. As if I am stood next to a vast marshland covered by mist, fear seeps through my lungs into my blood. Yet, my feet do not falter in the face of fear as the unknown lies ahead, and the unknown could yield untold joy. It is but a quest for me to wander in this foggy air, discover the landscape, and make a map of my findings, for if I don’t, I will forever melt by the flame of self-inflicted blame for rejecting an opportunity, an opportunity so great that it may even end the turmoil within myself. Some say that inner battles are fought in solitude, but I beg to differ, for any battle is ever closer to a victory when fought alongside allies.

Charm, not attraction, because I cannot yet comprehend whether it calls me near, or just radiates strangeness. I feel weak, for I have never been so misguided, so lost before in my life. I never knew what to do myself, yet, I always knew what to expect from other things. This time, the bard sings to a new tune, speaks of a peculiar beauty, tells of a strange tale. I, with curiousity growing irresistable in my heart, strive to explore the terra incognito myself, to understand what lies behind the great walls of my castle. I must know whether this creature I seek is an angel or a beast.

I claim to be neither a hero nor a wizard. I am but a simple man with a mind bound to mystery. They will not sing songs of courage for me, nor will they tell each other made-up legends. A handful of friends may mourn my passing but lands will not shatter for me. Nonetheless, a simple man is still a man, and writes himself a story, maybe of his endeavours through years, of dreams that never come true, of things that have happenned before and will keep happenning regardless of actors. This little craft holds importance to that man, and he shall not hesitate any step directed towards its realisation, even if failure will disintegrate what is left of the future of the story.

There is charm in the mystery, I must uncover what lies beneath.