How far does wisdom see, is it truly the time for me to insist and persisting to make known that I am not cheap in just existing?
I’ve been broken but still I’m struck within myself. This cage of lies seems to be never ending, everytime I think I’m there another glance of darkness abounds and surrounds my mind. It makes me wonder whether my past is worth the walk while relative experiences of others make me bluntly worthless, how expression may be a tool to define yourself into glory!
Again I see that hearts can’t be measured, it’s the one choice that knows its time to explain whatever. That simply does what it wills, not minding the freedom of judgment passing through the fields of remembrance. It’s impossible, yet a honor to many, attaining wholeness by catching fire that burns the untrue away from the throne. Your past won’t be the wall in between you and glory, it’s the story you tell about the fame for which you fell- it’ll testify to your death, pride will shame you at the last breath you’ve taken in becoming forsaken acquiring nothing but hay, straw that burns away.
How can I fathom more than I can see, understand the essence of eternal sunshine in all that surrounds me? To really be keen on what I say is harder than flowing along the quiet tide of the sea. The havoc of betrayal, splendor of trust wasted, a greyness too deep without color- like a dream unreal to your fate. This man though will stand firm watching his own vision not to go bad, the fruit that ripened not given away but cared for dearly, just to eventually say and name a reason for justice prevailing in an expected treason of his future hopes.
Will the joy of my now worried heart be blewn to a height not reachable? Is there a venue of hope I can tread on when all seems to crumble, and I consider to be humble and right in what to let go? I want to soak back into myself, to enjoy the present and neglecting foreshadowed alarms of a future abandoned.
Thought He promised, thought He spoke to me, now because of my worry I failed. Failed again to see her fly in elegance, in all kindness landing softly on the shoulders of another. I’m declaring; even now, I’m free.