I think on recent events, all that has happened to the place once called the home of my soul, and despair. the long years have brought on homesickness and a nearly desperate need to return, even more so now, when my heart is crying out for those perishing in abominable fashion. I watch the censured scenes on news broadcasts, browse internet pages full of gore, but, both are nothing more to me than electronic nonsense. no, I want to see for myself the rage, convince my mind that my heart is not breaking in vain, that the people that I long to belong to have truly turned to murder and hate and insensible cruelty. for my mind remains irrationally logical and dismisses that such notions of chaos can occur where splendor lives. and what of those who stand between? children born half of one and half of the other? will they be slashed down the middle so that each corresponding half can fight for whom it belongs? what a tragic legacy shall be left to those who by the Almighty's grace survi...
"The smell of ink is intoxicating to me - others may have wine, but I have poetry." ~ Terri Guillemets