Advent
I cannot tell you that things will be fine. I cannot tell you that there will be a better tomorrow. The truth is, even if those things are true, the grip of terror still holds fast. In those darkest depths where naught penetrates lift your eyes to the enveloping and seek the coming of your next self and reflect upon this missive soul: likewise lost in another place, in another time, next to you, far from you, searching, hoping, yearning, despairing - consumed by the prospects of unjust misfortune and the divine providence that ...