Transcend
He sits at the back of my mind.
A ghost roaming free across synapses,
pulling the strings of willpower.
assessing, evaluating, pondering
in constant and equal measure.
I figured,
What would he have changed once my paragraph done?
How would he have maneuvered when trivialities impeded my way?
How would he have acted by the time fear deterred my conviction?
What would he have done if he were me?
For the niche of his character is my ‘idealized’ self.
All that he uttered, of which he valued most,
once kindled the darkest corner in my psyche.
There, the locked potentials and withered hopes,
in high resolution, disclosed.
I, myself, had failed to reach out.
That which he never failed, in.
Penetrating my unconscious,
where inner chaos was all taken care of.
The Demon in my mind, appeased by The Saviour in his own.
Both ever since reciprocated as time elapsed.
Those he valued innately reaped the benefit for me
into having the two sides of myself reconciled.
Weaknesses, my qualities compensate for.
Qualities, my weaknesses benefit from.
Good old days I, indeed, took for granted.
The times, we were met with common interests
where two chemical substances coalesced,
and knowledge out of his erudition I subconsciously imbibed.
As if Alexander de Great whispered with saving graces
—out of the mouth of Aristotle.
I did not realize the amount of lessons I’ve learned.
How far he had me exposed to the higher self of my own.
Zenith, I would never have seen myself to be on.
As if he were the ink that allowed my pen rewriting life.
He may not be the author of the journey,
but no journey were even possible without him in the first place.
In hindsight, each thread toward wholeness, as I now trace back,
he’d blazed a trail for those unseen figures inside me
be acknowledged.
