in it, there was truth, reverie, magic, beauty, youth, protection, a crescendo, an opus, an alliance, a nemesis, an everest, a pillow, a stone. beneath it, beneath you, there was pressure. but beside you there was judgement and above you there was indifference. none of these suited me. i needed truth. do you understand what i mean when i say truth, little self? i mean brutality, i mean conviction that instigates, i mean raw reality of what He has, of what He is...
and i say that love conquers all, love triumphs. because He said it.
but now, where is victory? where is reverence matching retribution step for step? where is He setting it right? i understand its majesty, but is mystery always necessary?
we were a canvas, and we set down a work. it is simply unclear as to whether the legacy is one of tragedy or comedy. of dejection or hope. i suppose all who are young and have loved struggle with that even--and ever--after the fact. until the completion. so where is it complete?
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