Monday, 23 April 2012


An illicit start to a week preeminently bound by stress...

So ebbs my candour, ridden deep with the callousness of doubt. Fated to rub back and forth against my resolve; eroding vital skin, left open to the moist chill of subdued expectation. 

Can we ever truthfully discern prosperity or success? Must it always be outside, gazing in through the window upon the warm hearth within. 

Impermanent isolation; ever to be the lasting choice of those jaded by the blade of bitter memory. Consolation found only in the expectancy of future calm.

So thus honesty walks in step with vulnerability, a wearisome couple propped up by one another's strengths. At times faltering; but never to fall.

A symbiosis of the aggrieved, locked together in divine reciprocity. 

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