Safe within Sorrow
May 4, 2021
What can you do when half of your existence is void of solid ground? The inevitability of sinking, despite strength, is eventually accepted. Earth continues to spin, but your soul is a planet on its own. Is this a dream of a desert landscape, a dream of an abandoned neon sign? Fragile behind glass, safe within sorrow, drops of acceptance come to fruition as blue rain taps, taps.
How can you help someone who is void of wanting help? Flying high, sliding across the hollow top, zig-zagging along they hide. Closed behind the hatch door, their mission is their own. Blurrily, yet clearly, they dare you to revoke hope.
