I erode into a balanced life as I seep into patience, even when the blasting, most tormenting, expands and rivers meet stone I become the insistence that molds the desert’s red stone which stands waiting for an instant for me to collapse my demand for a fuller life by eroding hurt as I seep into patience. Even when I feel my tears filling the canyons once more, there’s a certainty within that tells my essence there’s nothing in this trite life that I can’t transcend if I erode into a prismatic life as I seep into a patience that will let go of that grief that appears to contend that I am never good enough to fully comprehend the frustration that keeps us from being the fragrance that runs through rivers and stone until we fully mold through erosion that balanced life that seeps patience.

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