Horizon

The invisible line to which I run,

The sweet soul-fabled horizon

The horizon into which I disappear

Fantastical and mystical,

Is there

But never here.

If I should disappear from view

As my chords of sweet melancholic freedom tell me to,

Remember I am not gone, though I am no longer there,

I'm just exiting to the music that promised me somewhere,

The freedom promised is sweet escape,

Note perfect lies on audiotape,

For the landscape of promised freedom

Only exists beyond the horizon

But oh how I long for the lie

For it tells me what I want to hear

That escape is still possible

It is in itself, music to my ear.

But I must stay and fight

And only occasionally contemplate flight

And walk flint-faced into the Sun

And the disappearing, 

Reconfiguring,

Ever moving

Horizon.