I long for the feeling of having someone to share my pain with.
The pain that traveled through generations of my bloodline.
Thee to say love is stronger than pain, shall never be able to fully comprehend my uprising.
Longing for something like that is cruel.
Having to acknowledge that this will be a never ending longing might be even crueler.
Pain does paint the soul like a mandala, all kinds of shapes, but barely color to be found within.
My last words were long gone, but here I stand again.
I've grown a lot, grown to be able to bear the weight I received to carry.
I keep on wondering if old ways can to be broken.
If so, I'm keen to rise from the ashes.
I've evolved, changed in every facet of my being.
Just one thing hasn't changed; the emptiness which fills my heart.
Here I stand, years flown away, asking you:
Do you believe in forgiveness?
And if so, do you believe a soul, born and raised broken, can be fixed among the unbroken?
