and some days,
the lack of activity comes at you
like a storm.
it bears with it,
the kind of silence that makes do anything
to get out.
the kind of silence that bears no mercy,
at its beckon,
he needs you there.
the kind of silence cruel like the heat of the
it bears with it a whirlwind,
the kind that comes bearing all your failures
the kind that comes bearing the force of regret,
memories of what you had and lost.
the kind that demands repentance to settle down,
the kind that demands to be seen and heard,
and in its presence you are humbled.
on one knee,
you have no choice but to face the beast,
that is your life.
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