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Finding you must have been some kind of fate.
Like the Universe had a preplanned date.
As reality sets in a new praxis unfolds.
The arduous path of unlearning what’s been told.
Missions for greatness fail with egos rise.
Picking up the pieces of self created demise.
Focus on what’s been hidden
lead through labyrinths way.
Stopping to dissect the roses
creates the means to stay.
See the melody on the wind.
Feel the pressure under the skin.
Whispers of ineptitude invade a protected space.
Inhered sapience breathe it in take its place.

~Ruby L.S.~