In Progress

It is after all sequential that I exist in this form,

Find love that will not conform,

Love that will trust the process of finding peace,

Finding whatever it is that can be found,

Love that exists purely upon its own decision to love me,

Whether unworthy my heart may feel,

It feels well today until the dusking dawn comes by,

Steals all memory of my pieces,

To reveal pieces, For all Peace can go without notice,

Can be far removed from every trespass of memories,

It is hard to see how love can be here,

Yet here staying, Trying to find my joy in the midst of all these pieces,

Pieces pieced together by a Prince,

A King who is called Peace.

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