Parked at the crosswalk,
to and fro, stalled
of where to go.
Must I remain singular
in a realm of polaric desires?
Grant my wish
..to lay the entire path.
No split or target; just a beam of no end nor beginnings
No chance to ask for permission…
And already, it was decided.
The walls began to build themselves long before we existed..
Where is the breath of remembered light?
We only exist there…
(C) Jennifer Lee. The Voice of the Wounded Soul
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