Is this the way things are going to be? A cold pane of glass, a handprint, and a reflection?
The rain falls: a celebration for some, a tragedy for others, but, apathy and loneliness. I
forget to breath sometimes, my meals are unappetizing. This is not a needle that points to
direct to the right path, because it points to me, accusingly, high up, and darkly robed.
The upward lines on my face cannot be rewritten; a tumultuous hurricane cycling inside is
abated by the shine of my eyes, and the imagined look of the one that will carry
all that I have- does not exist outside of this body.
I welcome the one that can –peace be still- call off the war, end the suffering, tame the beast…
sleep peacefully at last.
No comments:
Post a Comment