With a heavy heart, I exhaled a breath of longing beneath
my silent prayer – perhaps too overoptimistic. Gazing outwards,
I found myself swallowed by the paranoia of my own existence,
and chewed out by the tumultuous journey of time's relentless
exploration.

I held my reflection in a broken piece of glass; staring as the
curious, frigid gaze of a child peering into the depths of your
soul – my inner child gazed back, steeped in wistful nostalgia.

My rich brown skin, reminiscent of freshly tilled soil; labouring
through the toil while tears nourish this earth, as umbrellas lie
forgotten. Steamed by the essence of love, my surroundings
dissipate – my very bones crafted out like fragile paper, and
inscribed with the genetic legacy that tells of my human nature.

Where dreams should stand still; passionately lamenting until
they become a reservoir of still rain – the passage of time pales
in comparison to the pacing of this life. Yet, for the sake of my
aspirations, and having a hand in creating my dreams, I hope
to grasp them all one day.