Where has my uninjurious cavity gone?
Has it been forsaken?
Part of the soul which had the potential for anything imaginable-
Oh, how I shuddered to project that its capacity might be filled with anything less than happiness.
At dawn, only the beat of a dove’s feathers occupied my heart’s atrium,
But long since has that fowl taken flight and left a wry raven ranting this day’s dusk.
What I would do to abate the aggregate of realism and reinvest my childhood hopes.
Oh God, grow this green garden from the seed of hope I know lies in the emptiest hollow of my heart.
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