Prayer

This is just an attempt. I don’t know of what yet. It just feels like an attempt. I am going to try and empty my mind here and hope that everything will work out. I am so tired. I cant bear my thoughts anymore. My head weighs tons. Day by day it succumbs to gravity. An attempt. The first one. I don’t know if more will follow. It is as it has always been. The same. Again and again. I will try and empty my mind here. So that nothing remains inside anymore. Empty and light. Proud it will stand against sunlight and the rain. I hope it will bear to gaze upon the moon again without being forced to bend. For now it is bend and cracked and torn apart. For now my body is incapable of standing strong. My feet wont grasp the ground. Bend and torn and scattered I exist. A folded being. Not belonging. Not part of this world. Strayed from my kind I wonder in empty plains where the torturing calmness reigns. And I hope. Now I hope that this will be of some help. No this is not an answer. It’s not a solution. Not even a proposition. It is just an attempt. It is as useful as an exorcism performed by an amateur priest over a schizophrenic. But still. It is all there is now. It is all I can do now. So I persist. I keep feeding this lonely hope. This tiny bit of light that has made a nest inside my body refuses to flee. Frantic storms and hurricanes, great tidal waves and floods of blood have come and gone. And nothing has ever managed to put it out. Nothing achieved it. The damage has been impressive but fruitless. This is admirable, some may say. I don’t know. I just keep watching the small sparkling beams get reflected more and more as time passes on the walls inside my body. Illuminating everything. Grand pure light in many colors makes the timeless shadows flee in desperate cries. And again it is an emergency. It is declared. My body in a state of security alert. But the intruder is bright. it is blinding brilliant. No need of concealment or hiding. How rude. Just lying there without the smallest intention of covering. As though it doesn’t care. As though it is not afraid. As though it is invincible. As though it cannot die. As though it knows deep inside in its roots that no matter what I do, it will never leave me unwillingly. And so I feed it. I keep feeding it. I am hoping.