Yeah, I thought it never would again. I never lost faith in myself but, I did for a second lose faith in the spinning of this world.

It occurred at its appointed time, as it always has. Like a candle lit in a small dark space, illuminating and revealing truths forgotten.

Prayers whispered, phone calls unanswered and a sinner by the window.

Worn out shoes, angry faces and greetings ignored.

Disheveled hair turning gray, T-shirt and a beard grown past its prime.

A young lady walks on and finds a place to sit. She is unnamed and undefined by anyone. Even as she glances at her reflection she is still unsure but certain she will emerge as time passes.

If words are written and unread, are the letters used in vain? Passion wasted and self described art, on the floor next to the shards from a broken mirror.

Can anyone hear my screaming? Does anyone know I am locked inside this cell? What happened to my one phone call and who should I dial?

Left to ourselves, we can be quite harsh and self destructive. The words are written but my eyes cannot focus, glasses are hiding once again. What does it say?