The battle roamed in the distance. Echo of one past life, so very ashamed. Pure heart of one Young Maltese. A Union of One. See the vast plains, as it rumbles. Roaming ocean carried deep inside. How can you turn your back for all the sorrow right in front of your very own eyes?
“Sometimes you just have to.�
I see a boy in twenties, one deep wrinkle on the forehead, a boy who aged too early from the mind. All wounds heal in time. Tissue is still soft and the Journey is an on-going process. Scarred - yes, but not scared. Not anymore. One of the best physical examples of solitude in this life is when map given is not enough. We are born, we live, we love and we hope. Faith is not part of the Big Function. Alone.