I guess life has its ways of preserving the sanity...words may always fail to embody the essence of reality...but I guess it is only through the plume that one can displace any impediments to vastness, clarity, and sense...
As how my life is scattered around the floor...with its bits and pieces shattered waiting to be gathered, with its emotions laying stale because of ignorance...poetry finds the path for redemption to be achieved...
I can be redeemed despite of...challenging...but I am able to cope...trying to be sane...
...at least.
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