The Opeth Soliloquies.

'Latter days of December,
Bring the obscure, whispering Wind.
Stepping out, trying to vaguely remember,
The whos, the whys, and omniscient whens...

I am past due, to my voyage's line,
Even it is for the request of the dead.
But this one thing, clouding my mind for some time...
Is just how to progress past the foot of my bed.

They soon will be calling, and here thine am, at the start.
Sinking quickly in sheets of hot sand...
"A worthy apostle!" their voices shall retort.
"Worthy indeed, to the lines in his hand."

Not as worthy as He, who I am reaching out to...
But respected enough to find his own way.
I was expected much before, hindered by what I've been through,
So I departed without notice, on this dawn of today.

~~~~

Out of the desert, off of bended knee...
Onto path of dirt and cobblestone.
My feet tread heavy, while soles gently bleed...
Through desperate determination, my will is not lone.

Drops now descend, bringing a dense, foggy mist.
And a glimmer of hope appears down the road...
No, it is only a stranger, as my eyes insist...
Badly marred, spooled in scars to his toes.

So I transvese on, through the unforgiving rain.
Thinking I cannot, but conscience saying I should...
As I start to plead to the Father in unfathomable pain,
There she lies in the distance, that October wood.

"Praise ye, Messiah!" My mouth opens wide...
Engrossing the storm now, tasting its tears.
My vessel is replenished, with this joy I confide...
The forest waits in solace, after many forlorn years.

Still only so far, after only so long...
Now the path has broken, and the wind picks up.
I step forward in triumph, breaking out in song,
Nothing can stop me now; I have been through too much!