A quiet place in the rain,
To be alone,
With cold,
Damp,
Companions,
Holding exposed,
The virtues of isolation.
Numbness dissipates,
Distraction,
Escape,
Lulled away…
A soft static wash,
In the soundscape.
Chill flows,
Shivers of urgency,
Dislodging buried slivers,
Coaxing them to the surface,
Embracing Affliction,
And the wisdom of Weariness,
Cast stubborn Comfort aside,
At the onset of the journey.
Take the hand of Lonesome’s soldier,
A courier to seek out,
Consolation’s elusive route,
Through clouded corners of the map.
Scale the peaks of Trepidation,
Cross raging rivers of Doubt,
Carry on through the draught,
In the sands of Abandonment…
Descend,
The deepest frozen caverns,
Lay before Desperation’s icy claws.
Gritting teeth,
Waking skin,
Bracing to begin,
The quenching,
Cleansing,
Trial.
The body releases,
Surfacing desires,
Shockwave comprehension,
Baptizing,
Naked,
Immersion,
Downpouring,
Storm’s fluid gospel.
Incite,
Anaesthetized urges,
Allowing Darkness’s glue,
To mend the invisible cracks,
Lost to light-addled eyes,
And dayglow existence.
Rise up,
Pulsing,
Emerging,
From a pilgrimage,
Offering exchange:
Suffering for relief;
Dissolution for restoration;
Helplessness,
Against the elements,
For that sturdy,
Slowly-growing,
Seed of Freedom,
Only the shadow-drenched soul,
Will ever know.
Nicholas Yandell is a composer, who sometimes creates with words instead of sound. In those cases, he usually ends up with fiction and occasionally poetry. He also paints and draws, and often all these activities become combined, because they’re really not all that different from each other, and it’s all just art right?
When not working on creative projects, Nick works as a bookseller at Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon, where he enjoys being surrounded by a wealth of knowledge, as well as working and interacting with creatively stimulating people. He has a website where he displays his creations; it’s nicholasyandell.com. Check it out!