Some days it is so difficult to find the sun within me. Denial rejects ever knowing the name of fire, and the mind is easily tempted to gamble everything away.
It becomes so hard to find the strength to wrestle this beast to the ground, demanding and proclaiming the vow of poets that true love is the only tongue you speak.
Sometimes a forgetful mind will misplace the records of wisdom that give it the will to embrace the day. It must rely on blind faith found in companions' arms, praying through love till the night becomes day, and this dark moment can surface to light, finding its way home.
In fillers of newspaper ads, one can find the words of heroes and stars. In paper, we can find the tears of a beast and the jewel in its heart.
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