Where To Go From Here_

A beautifully stale night; silent trees whisper the story of sleep as the night awakes to a dew covered morning. Words flutter out and scream silent news of loss. Down by a half we sit, tears rolling down-- this should not have turned out like this. Is it me or is it elsewhere, where does this blame sit? I know it was a choice. I know it was a choice. I know it was a choice....

The real question is: Do we really make our own choices?

Why leave a calling simply for this?

I have a single word to calm this; to settle it all.




Prayer.

Love.

Hope.


-- Pick One.