This, But not Yet

This is not Yet,
The dreamer of tomorrow's and unattained destiny holds fast to the promise of yesterday.
But the shattered visions are intended for repair.
Blood flows and night transfers for the down.
Gone but not gone, Still and yet rampant.
Pain is comfort. It is the indication of life, it is the real in a world of synthetic and simulated.
Pain is awake.
Without it we dream in a wasteland of our own making.
I do not live for pain, but with it. It is my friend, my shadow.
it is the driving force and momentum to pursue the unknown and untested. and for all that pain is,
most of all it is love.
It is the reason for doing, while knowing the horrific outcome. it is the divine will of sacrifice. it is the contagious obsession with courage, to be witnessed and admired for love.
Pain is love and without either, without both. you can not live.