Etched from A wretched

“I wish I could etch my feelings on a rock, I also wish I could crush that rock to dust and let it flow down a river.”

Other times I feel this wretched rock is placed on my heart and I cannot breathe.

Strength is a luxury most people cannot afford,

Other times it is an obligation, one cannot deny.

If denial was the name of a river,

Only if.

How difficult can a story of survival be?

How majestic can a problem be?

Answer to those questions is only one

The solution will sound very easy.

After all is done and everybody has left

There is no more a parade

No charade

There will be somebody around

And in that moment the truth say

that it was all  meant to be this way.

A wretched relish,

A wretched fetish,

A wretched zest,

A wretched delicacy,

A wretched story.

From One and Above,

The soul of a mourner is abated,

When a heartbreak is propelled.


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