How shall I begin, and how could I begin.
Thoughts are running wild, yet the word bank is drained. No idea how to say, no idea how to start. To vocalize is an enormous task itself; I seek refuge in silence, for silence has once been my best friend.
Just speak your mind, you might say. But what does my mind say, I can translate to no words. Perhaps I should just lock myself in and things might eventually get better.
Sometimes it happens, usually it doesn't.
And there was this one time, my dream shook me hard.
What was the prophecy, was there a hint?
Or was it an apocalypse, embedded within?
And when the ideal and reality conflicts, I find myself arriving at a paradox like it's said.
Come what may, all at once. I'm tired of surmounting each wave, one by one.
