I pour out my soul with paper and pen;

seeking ever-perfect adjectives that are equally genuine.

Moments –

Private,

Perfect,

Ours,

Answers the core of “Why”.

Faith –

Unseen,

Unlimited,

His,

Details the possibility of “How”.

And,

Doubt –

Loud,

Obnoxious,

Unrelenting,

Attempts to destroy “To what extent”.

But,

How does one put to rhyme a reality lost in time?

I pour out my soul before it drowns in yesterday’s sorrow;

seeking release from real pain that seeps into my every-tomorrow.

So,

Love –

Comforting,

Faithful

Trusting,

Absorbs it all; rescuing, protecting, and stabilizing.

Your Love empowers me to let us just be; with or without rhyme.