Sunday, 23 March 2014

There Is Nothing To Be Done

I’ve been rationing silence
(As if it were a rare and precious commodity)
Because I knew it would be the death of me
And I had to learn to be willing to die

Stop for too long, and the Divine will claim you as its own
Make sure there aren’t too many cracks where the light can come in
Or you’ll realise that there is nothing to be done

You can’t force this: let it come to you
You do not need to earn or embellish existence

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