The heart turns inside out

The soul recoils 

Crinkling like cracked crusty paper 

Let go or tighten the cuffs?

Voices of many drown the one.

A sliver of light makes itself known to the patrons.

They are no match to the emboldened truth.

Uniforms and costumes are thrown into the closet.

No one knows if they will be needed again. 

But the one knows.  It always knows. 

The passage unencumbered, a whole person walks the path of the mighty. 

There is nothing to grieve when Gods dance between whispers in the minds of men.

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