From the outermost periphery of memory
an inner repetitive monotonous rhythm is heard,
reminiscent of the atmospheric beats of ancient drums.

A glimpse of wordless deformed shadows in the darkness
dancing around a blazing campfire,
moving like ghosts in time 
and reminding me of my past.

When I choose to live by the rhythm of my blood
the world becomes magical.
An adventure to enjoy.

EvelynFalkMöller