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To be detached from the land where my roots took origin.
To disconnect with the rest of the world.
To rekindle a flaming love;
that was once burning now turning into an ember.
To plead and kneel at the river;
talking to the water;
losing sanity at plain sight.

Remembering moments where dreams were once crushed and burnt.
Turned into ashes and scattered on the ground;
the mud where I was born and grown.
Like a tree once fruitful;
now dry, bare, and lifeless.

But one day six feet under from where I am;
will come a morning anew.
Like leaves and grass dripping with shining morning dew;
I will rise up.

Like a farmer with a green thumb;
Your hand, oh God, will reach for me.
Like a seed I will grow once again.
Detached not from You and Your safety.
But from the doubts and worries that once killed me.
Once again;
I will find You, my God;
My Saviour, my refuge.
A/N:
I attended the Youth Encounter that my parish organized.
It. Was. Fruitful. Indeed.

I would like to thank God for making a way for me to go  back home to Him again. I would like to thank the people He used as pavements that help track His humble home. I would like to thank life's hard situations for saving me the gym sessions.

I would like to thank you, the person reading this, for you have made the time to listen to what I feel. peace be with you.

— The End —