General Writing

  1. The Whisper of a Name

    I knew a whisper of a name once, it was silent, it was sweet. It was as most things are, misunderstood and eventually forgotten. As revelation morphed into trite I felt myself slipping, grasping at crumbling roots, and ultimately falling. I was lost. I thought of being lost as the same as being without purpose, but no, I do not agree with that, for life should have purpose, should it not? To be a rock skipped across the pond waiting silently for submergence is perhaps more frightening...
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