Tempering

It boils at times, I don’t know why,

at other times I could just cry.

The world I know is made for love,

that pure essence from high above.

Why can’t I just embrace the call,

not lose the path and take the fall?

The twists I see within my mind

make my true path so hard to find.

Who am I now, who will I be?

Will I ever truly be me?

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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