wouldnt it be grand
Perfect perhaps
To finally be so sure?
That would be nice
To ebb through the current follies
And flow into a stream of new.
One can dream but belief is where the magic is.
Faith in whatever maybe
Mine's fleeting as i try to find the strands that lead me to
My own beliefs
A culmination of unalterable acts
A breath of compassion in an ego soaked ink bath
Bread and wine with those of trust
The process is scary
Grand nonetheless.
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