Life bounded at me with favourable breakneck pace and a newly painted horizon; banished were the blues and blacks of despair and in the distance floated prisms of light to dance in the eye of the beholder.
Rainy days stayed wet but there was a degree of relief in the sun that later broke the clouds, warmth and radiance a component of patience to those able to wait.
I didn’t consider myself to be spiritual until I screamed to a God that had given up on me long ago and felt the forgiveness through the cleared cobwebs in my vision, through the nights that no longer felt like betrayal.
I awoke to the light I created for myself and I refused to sleep in the darkness of another, for I’d already been a shadow eighteen years.
Consequence is far more bitter than vinegar but when your karma comes full circle you love the pain to death for steering you from it; we always were slow learners.
Nothing is perfect but I still wake in the early hours to live like the lively and hope no one spies my drowned reservations.
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