Faith.
An anchor that keeps one from being sucked into nothingness.
A glue that pulls together all the broken pieces, fills the cracks with hope and makes one appear whole.
An illusion really, which fools one into believing that all the pain and tears have some absolutely unquestionable yet valid reason behind.
A panacea for the blind-by-choice.
Shrouded in mystery. Dripping with myths.
Faith lives in stones and expansive incomprehensible texts.
Then there are some fools who build theirs in live, pulsating, fickle stones.
Wherever one chooses to surrender their reason, at one point or the other, faith fails.
The correct amount of pressure and the correct timing is all it takes to crack the cocoon, to restore and repair the eyesight and see faith waver, crumble or break.
Anchors rust. Glues expire. Illusions break.
Reason dawns. Faith walks away.
I am left alone.
Bare. Mangled.
Faithless.
