Incomplete


A million times, a million things I’ve let time decide, left for the universe to conspire. Fancy are those thoughts and foolish, those convictions that make trivialities seem grander as we approach the morrow. Dawn brings with it, a merry chirping, a prayer of hope and a warm embrace and the zephyr.

Days are prayers for the people of night. There was never a god yet we follow suite; we have to know that we’re alright. Hour after hour, my faith demands a margin call. Sell my soul, I shall. It is a good day, after all.

43 thoughts on “Incomplete”

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s