A codger once spoke of his hardships, so did the lonely urchin. A quitter once cried out her fears and so did the woman who was trafficked. A pauper once reached out for the stars, so did his sons. Where are these voices, those cries, those fears, those screams?

People say they fade away with the dark times; people say they are somewhere lurking around their memories; people say they live in the minds of change; people say they are lost in dead eyes. People say a lot of things but I say that they are all preserved in this book of the Divine Reality.

Frozen memories on paper,

Entrapped  teardrops in the words,

Where do our fears go?

How do our flaws grow?

We keep coming back for more,

But why does the evil inside cuts up all our hopes?

The mask which hides our imperfections,

Take it off and set yourself free,

Free to absorb these worldly conceptions,

These conceptions are beyond your fantasies,

These conceptions are beyond your ambiguity,

Beyond the suburbs of your soul,

Beyond your preserved dignity,

What comes there?

I guess it is the Divine Reality