Belly of the Cavern

This song, a wonderful piece created by my most recent musical discovery, Typhoon, has become the hymn of my last year. It was a year filled with dreams and their subsequent shattering, with joy and with pain, hope and the most absolute of despairs. I’ve been lost out in the mountains, with nothing to nurture me but my own fears and misery; the shadow of an insurmountable loneliness creeping down upon me. I’ve been in search of something that might as well be a lie, made up chimeras that people whisper to themselves in order to feel comforted about their present and hopeful about their future. That search has brought me to the brink of insanity. And, although I think I might have found what I’d been looking for, it might all be a mirage, a cruel illusion, everything just precious stones I’d be forced to eat instead of the true nourishment my soul has been longing for. I’ll never know until I embrace its madness, even though the risk of harm is high. I just hope I will indeed settle by the water before everything is over, and I can at last enjoy the peace and healing I desire.

But, as others would wisely claim, no amount of suffering matters in the end, because heartache pales in comparison to Love.

BELLY OF THE CAVERN
by Typhoon

I was lost out in the mountains
and I had run out of provisions.
I had one drop left in my deer-skin
and I had come to my last decision:

Should I lie down
or should I be laid down?

I had set out in the first place
from what I gathered from rumored hearsay.
I heard of treasures in a high cave
on the northern slopes of the coast range.

So I climbed up
but I didn’t know how to climb down.

So I wandered through the foliage;
I came across my own tracks and I became discouraged
until at long last I found a cavern;
I crawled inside and I lit my lantern.

And it was all there,
just like they told me it would be there.

I was lost out in the mountains;
I had no water, nothing to eat.
So I drank the soil from a golden chalice;
I gritted precious stones between my teeth.

And I regretted my lonesome palace,
I should have never listened to others tales.
All I had left was a priceless ballast
to hold me down from the howling gales.

In my mouth there burned a fire,
I was dying of a long long draught.
But then a voice whistled across the mouth of my cavern
and it said to me, it said that without a doubt:

“You will settle by the water before this is over.”

All my life I’ve spent wasting time, wasting my time
just to forget again but I don’t mind, I don’t mind:
I’ll take my medicine and I’ll be fine, I will be fine.
I’ll be fine.

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