When the same light that guides you,
burns your house to the ground.

When the baby dies,
but the milk still comes in.

When you wake up one morning, and know.
That everything you have,
has cost you everything you Believed.

I don't need to be a party to
the lies you tell yourself to get through the night.
I don't need. I don't need.

Hope is a symptom of, not the cure for,

When a Middle Eastern Woman
wails unto Heaven the loss of her son, God hears,
"Why did You let this happen?"

It is the same song God's woman sang to Him once over the body of their dead son.
"Why did You let this happen?"

You believe in shadows,
but not the light that casts them
to the ground.

You're half of what you could be.
This is why.

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