loneliness is inescapable. its roughness persists within, notice your detachment in an alienating
prison of unforgettable past. some of us are lost in confusion, to the extent in a belief we
deserve that. we attempt letting go. we test the waters, hardly ever do we plunge in.
childhood is funny now, we had not the vague concept of things, but that never stopped us.
faith showers us with awareness little by little. to pull ourselves back to gravity. how much of
you, have you lost the past year? do you still remember, what the ache laid in front of you?
touches of poetic reverie to calm the waves a little. little by little we regain trust. never so
much devotion. is it selfish, to be engaged in the conviction of bettering oneself, deliberate to
grow wherever it led you to go? do not question life, with like-minded people. reality is merely
an expression. newborn details emerge from lengthily descriptions: insight into the interior
nature. concentrate, you’ll discover a new eye-view. float in the river, to replace the burden
to please, with rapid moving toward goals. illuminating consciousness with sharpness. be
gentle. be gentle with soft strokes. care for you. intimacy is imagination birthed into life. find
pleasure-passages enfolding your body. make a home to home love. nurturing dreams for a
future, containing the both of you. leave a little room to call change. always.
The soft language of forgiveness is often imbalanced, unspoken. pride devoted. we water our
grieving hearts, wash it gentle with patience, uncovering silent prayers, yearning for sustaining
trust in closeness with the Creator. sadness swallows up life’s identity, morphing it into a
doom, yet sadness interaction is necessary, for emerging self out of dark alleyways. for
arousing meaning, passion in the scenery with a fresh window breeze. pain stirs cruelty.
aggression. stillness. numbing guilt. & estranged distance. yet when time is adopted,
openness, comes together with vulnerability, fragile bonds believe in finding relief again. fear
of mortality holds power, driving deranged focus into shallow rivers of short praise and
hesitated applause. the reason art suffers. the reason art is a second-guess. the reason art is in
deadness. emotions, felt experiences painted over with artists’ mirror-impressions. shame.
who is to blame? fear of solitude, caged in lonely separation, resisting to read the hurt history,
to sprinkle peace along the pages, then close the past chapter all together. reflect: that is
your provider for expressing regrets, for inhalation of sins. prayer of comfort. prayer of
weeping. prayer of collapsing. prayer of begging. prayer of scratched backbone. prayer of
need of more prayers. prayer of forgiving the softness. prayer of soul. prayer for the soul.