How strange in these trying times, that I fear to evoke words. For it is the breathe that parades honesty, truthfully, a resolve.
How strange in these trying times, that fear leads us all. For it is the worry that promotes hopelessly, a world forever cold.
How strange in these trying times, that sleep comes no less to those born sewing the treads of our patriotic vests - unseen, moving pieces as their perversions only deepen...
How strange in these trying times, that I’ve never been so sure, I must find a creative, collaborative cushion on which to fall.
Dare I say it lies within reach?