Always peace,
the pain is left behind,
is it like a slow walk, stroll,
a hike in the pretty wood,
where the daylight
peeks through the natural reality.
Is it dark and bleak and undefined,
a purgatorial mastery of
lost time.
Is it worth the risk.
I'm a teacher, again
To me writing is currently a release. I haven't quite decided to what degree it is I'm searching within my words, yet, I feel something matters somewhere, right?
