Blind Spot

Once we traveled, telling our stories, sharing the depths of our dreams. Rites of passage, instructed to seek truth from within, walking with the shadow, allowing the darkness and the light to coalesce, spirits met at every crossing, honoring their presence as our own. The great rift occurring, shifting our gaze as our shadow was left behind, the distracted self wandering to far ahead, how forgetful we have become, running straight into the burning sun, blinded by an unknown power of the will, Icarus without wings, plunging into the dark sea.

– Josh Fleming

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