The times

His eyes do not search mine for answers, that bitter sweet approach, though my heart aches gladly at the thought that questions occupy his mind. Instead it is myself with blank stare opposite overwhelming answers from his endless eyes.

(from minimal man)

There are times when words are the least of our worries, when we concern ourselves with the finite and tremble.

We see all that isn't.
It is at that moment that we step toward an abyss where hope ceases to exist.


Hope is innocence and so we endeavor to preserve innocence wherever and however it takes form.

Darkness creates boundaries, its very nature being to curtail the light. Darkness creeps in, gains ground but without light there can be no darkness. Without light there is nothing. Innocence is that light and knows no boundaries.

Light is hidden from greedy eyes, clearly we can see darkness. It clings to us like an apparition and try as we might we cannot loosen it.
Cry as we might, it does not rinse away.

Innocence is the lamb and the lamb is sacrificed. But it remains innocence. We have not lost it, it remains hope.

It is not personal hope, neither personal love, but rather a part of those who can see it and know its condition.