Little One, How You Have Grown. How You Have Hurt. Turning Towards Your Sins - Nurturing Your Rage.

little one, how you have grown. how you have hurt. turning towards your sins - nurturing your rage.
i gaze upon the heart, allowing my face to rest against your punctured wounds. i weep, as you suffocate the seed of purpose. why must you run to the water? - do you search for the bottomless pit? in hopes that blu will become black and black consume your restless soul?
i awoke. thinking of your childlike presence. recalling the smile which shimmered in iridescent hues - overwhelming the lips, as laughter spewed beyond the spirit and into the air.
i recalled the mother who held her first born, rejoicing in tongues. mesmerized with love, as her reflection mirrored her in infancy. i recalled her … as my heart beats for you, thumping heavily.
dear friend, i suppose in your sadness you have not heard the opening of windows and the swinging of doors. i pray for your weakened heart and the bitterness which has wrapped your soul. might you ask the stars above for strength or have you forgotten? … purpose lingers at the draw of your breath.
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