I
have deeper feelings where nothing meaningful applies. I am long and longing
into the search, as I also search for why I search. I easily live the disguise
of looking for what I don’t know. I, in my defense, have means and reasons and live
for possible new leads as rewards but no, I secretly search on, as a way of
life. Rewards
are no relief, just moments of my exposure, now
useless to the deeper cause. I search from the half empty of me, using the half
full. I am not the me who does this, this relentlessness in searching. But I
cover for them. They of me are closer to the void fire and the void choir than
I. They bleed these elementals for dissection, while I pose and appear. They of
me tell me stories that enthrall beyond words but wordlessly done in the
exchange. I settle for the flash of details surfacing as if it is them of me
ceremoniously coming up for air. But
I have deeper feelings where nothing meaningful sustains or applies . . .
Feelings that shape a universe larger than I can know but I know it is there
and it is real and I come from there more than here. My heart is aware and
confirming but I have no words to say. These deeper feelings, they are not
distracting but what outwardly presents. These deeper feelings, at times, they
name me to myself. They give a sense of soul recognition. Deeper feelings
anchor beyond story or account. Deeper
feelings give me home away from home as always the emotional bechons . . .
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