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.