Friday, July 12, 2013


The harder one seeks, the emptier one's cup becomes. 
So one ponders in one corner to conserve energy.
Maybe a burst of inspiration comes
In the form of a word, a phrase, a memory
Or simply, the nagging sense that one has to go on.
And, as with all things transcendental,
One questions the outcome
But doubt in this sense
Is not in the same plane as faith.

Repeat ad nauseum.

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