The unmet eye met
by yet another sun-day sunrise.
It is not the silence of the Voice that stops the bleeding.
How could it be when it never stops?
It speaks of resentment,
all the Failure we Won’t forget:
How I came to rely on the strength of language Alone to bend the path and,
stopped getting everything I wanted.
How you need a broken heart to speak.
Oh! you Angels,
you guides and gods –
how You persist!
I willingly entered the brooding dark when I finally saw it in the light of day.
I cannot endure any more falling.
And yet –
here I am,
even knowing the danger.