Fallen Angel

When patience fail you and reasons are of no excuse, how do you get back up on your feet after hitting the cold, hard pavement face down? The table is turned and the enemy you find is not the one whom you fought with. Instead, a war is waged between you and yourself.

There is a choice. A decision you could barely face, let alone make. Rooms are reserved not for mistakes but for pain. It revolves around not what is at stake but of what it is worth. Clarity fails your sight and numbness engulfs your ability to feel. All thoughts of being seem to have been lost. The next step is no longer of any consequence as you lie face down and completely stripped off of any certainty that of which you could even barely remember.

I speak of these not out of fury, but out of anguish. There lies my soul trampled with my heart in it. I chose nothing and in doing so still ended up making a choice. It was in choosing nothing. A decision I need not to face having my face slapped by the ground.

And lie still I did, still face down. A white flag hung in the air I breathe. I breathe. Alas, a truce between me and myself. My sight has no need of any clarity as the numbeness lifts its tight embrace. I savor the feel of the cold hard pavement. It was a mistake that pushed me to the ground and I began to drink all the pain. For everything that was at stake is worth everything to me.

Nothingness was only a mere excuse. The anguish has been forgotten and but one reason remains. I love.

Patience has not failed me afterall.