Thomas,

My right hand clasps faith, as my left gently grasps doubt. my right embraces doubt; left gently clasps faith. Can certainty accompany faith? How can this be? Again my gaze struggles to look past the cumbersome shadow of doubt. It blots out the sun, leaving me the simple sight of its silhouette and the light thereof. My struggle gains no meaning. My eyes yearn a divine blinding. I desire for his light to pierce doubt's ever-thick shadow.


Morgan

i see that i don't see

i hold dreams in my right hand, and failures in my left. one day i will pass up emptiness for fulfillment, but today i am retrogressing. this misery is long and fearful. it seems no one can alleviate my burden.

you've heard familiar words of life represented as a dark room, but i say it is a hall. it is long and narrow. the ceiling is not seen, nor can it be touched. it is dully lighted along the edges of the wall and floor, but it's dimness brings about feelings of fear and emptiness. yea, i say emptiness is an adequate description of this predicament. i ran for days, even years to find the the halls end, but this task proved useless. it seemed to constrict in a slow manner despite my haste. so i looked behind for a glimpse of the past, but the dim lights reply with a few quiet blinks before turning off permanently. "why has this task been brought upon me?" i cry out. again, no answer is given. i am cold, alone and frail.


Why can I not breathe?