If this, single entity, called forgiveness…
were a book.
It would be open…
amassed with complex, simple and congeal words.
Each letter…sharp as, the finest blade.
Still…the voyage of…forgetting…would not be saved.
I could, we could, the winds could…embody the same chapter…
The same verse…over and over.
Understanding would stand alone…misspelled.
Ill behaved.
Oh, how I have hoped…to pen the story of a world…
‘giving back all that it took.’
Chapters filled with mended hearts.
A romantic plot where love builds a home.
And, pain is driven be car…
far, far, away.
But vision is lost…current day…in the burning building of thought.
Leaving a closed book…
With hope being accosted.
A victim of high cost.
