Officially spent. Nothing more is left to give. Caught up in the tornado and spun all around. No understanding of what is theirs and what is mine. Thinking clouded and emotions occupied with playing a disharmonious tune. A shot of inspiration is to be injected into this heart. Close to immediately. No right or wrong but dark. Mirky, heavy, and just dark. Plain old dark in a space of where compassion is meant to be. And the burden keeps growing and pressing down and whatever has legs runs in all directions, like ants, with heads covered, screaming, blaming.
There is a light somewhere shining. This much is certain. The leader has decided to take a long vacation, except he can't admit it to himself. And slowly the building is falling down until he, too, feels its load on his impenetrable head. He might see.
To find a cure for the condition in which to function within constraints. Narrow thinking hard to shake. Yet to be caught in it is shame. And so the light is to be sought. Its ever-present showing is pressing. Keep looking for the constant within the fright around. This heart is due for a makeover until the next time.
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