Ramblings of the heart

Perhaps there is light in these lands after all. Maybe I have been wrong, to see all about me with the eyes of one who expects only ill deeds and folk of impure heart. After all, this would not be the first time I have been wrong. In fact, now I think of it, there have been few times I have ever been right in my way of thinking. Of late, the life I have forged for myself, away from folk and hiding behind walls I let none break down has tired me. A few of good heart seem to have brought about this change in me, and as yet I cannot say if it is a change I like, or a change I will shy from as the wolf flees the open plains to seek lone shelter within the woodlands once more. What I know though, is that I cannot foresee a day when I shall speak of what I feel. To do so may shatter the balance of heart I have, and such a heart will not be rebuilt before the time I have comes to an end. If from a distance I might exchange a glance, and continue to let my ears be graced by the melody that rises such hope within me, then all is well from such distance. I know not who courts such beauty, or who other than I can hold such beauty in their gaze without the need to turn away for fear of falling into a love that one could never be released from. And I have no wish to know, for this I feel is the turning of a leaf that so desperately fights to not fall, but seeks to remain forever golden in the fading light of an evening sun.