A Good Goddamn

Eden closed its doors after I was given the boot. That was a long time ago, and this country of scramble and compromise has been an unforgiving home -- the curse a result of seeing two sides, gray, and unresolved, a case of asking a question too many times. I pried open the vault containing taboos, forbidden doubts. I have been wandering ever since, not that I mind that much. I have company from time to time. We reminisce about the golden glow of knowing for certain, the peace, the comforts of obedience. Those still burn late at night. It's impossible not to grieve. Unrequited love wanders the windswept stones left by glaciers long since receded. This excommunication is a price to pay, and it hurts. But my heart still beats; I still stand, even though my legs have begun to tire. I walk the walk of the damned, but it's a good goddamn.