when does the suffering end, when does the weight lift up, of waiting on unanswered prayers? Who else is out there to place all the blame on, when your self-blamed self blames you right back?
who do you believe in less, firstly - God or yourself? When facing all of the four walls, whose pinned up walls stand much stronger? Who is fed firstly – an empty stomach, or your poverty’s hunger?
For I am beginning to rest myself on canine sugars – a mutt chasing after the sweetness of biting their own tail. Whereas your daily bread seems to have gone a bit stale!
I’m not ready to die; but then again – I’m not so willing to stay. And that makes for this to be… a scary prayer!