Nov 7, 2025
Whispers to -Who...?
Recently I’ve found myself sat, hands clasped. Raised to who, I fear I haven’t the faintest clue.
And yet, there they remain with such vigor; A comfort provided that I can’t figure out or place. Time and space are mocking my plight, asking just who I’m hoping is hearing my-
Not prayers, no, at least that isn’t the intent. But nobody is around to listen to me vent. Asking for strength, from who or what?
My qualm with my pressed palms remains, as I bear the weight of what it means to know that in this world of balance, believing in any God feels a little in vain. Only I can make something of this pain.
