My Power, and Yours
Through my blue and silver eyes of truth, wrong is intensified in all it's discordant half hearted halting glory. Wrong in day, and in night. In mind, soul, home, and heart. What is left, blackened in my life. What you use as paint for your walls. In ridding myself from wrong, I find myself reaching for yours. I must wait. I am not worthy yet. I will be. I cannot speak to you about what I haven't done yet. I can only speak on what I've lived. And what I've breathed in from you. I have guidance... Sign in to see full entry.