The Obscurity of Trees

Minus pride, I gaze upward. Toward the elusive static that are the fingers of torment. Arrogant are the attempts to see the obscurities for what...they are. Nothing but mere intensely formidable, live-in scars. And, I? I am nothing but the wick to the flame...burning ever so bright. Eternally adjusting the delicate balance. That is my … Continue reading The Obscurity of Trees