Pain, creeping up with each letter of each word, spoken and implied.
Brokenness, unfathomable in depth.
Praying for nothing worse, yet realizing somehow it is no better.
My soul cries for resolution, justice, relief . . . and receives none.
Wounds: open, raw, bleeding.
Longing to scab over, scar even.
Healing comes not, but desire lingers.
Desire unfulfilled leads to crossroads.
Faith tested and strengthened or abandoned?
Though nearly extinguished, hope faintly lingers.
Bloodied hands, wearied from fighting, pick up the pieces and wait on . . .
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