I can only be me, my angst and my pain.
They float on the backs of pristine pastel rain.
A contradiction of dark shadows, crystalline light.
I roam inky forests, my soul drowning by night.
I call into chambers, silent emptiness bites.
We all make choices, sometimes paying the price.
My ignorance weeps, faithless tears stain my face.
Deep inner chambers house God's divine grace.
It does not matter what you think of me.
It is self-compassion that will rescue me.