.

no words could quell
the throbbing turmoil
that lay siege upon the chest.

no action could silence
the persuasive whispers
that show only darkened paths.

but there is this...
a seemingly empty hand -
with nothing to gift,
except the companionship
of another imperfect heart.

and the open hand will remain,
seemingly empty...

until you fill it with yours.

.

Burning stars,
set ablaze
according to teary eyes.

Discordant echoes,
spoken voiceless
by the void between them -
almost incoherent.

They must coalesce…

For there are whispers
of peace in unity,
and oneness…

There is promise
of balance in cohesion.
And subsequent tomorrows.

These notions,
scattered morsels,

they must coalesce…



We…

must coalesce.

.