a cry out of the deep distress of the heart

a cry out of the deep distress of the heart

fiction
edward w pritchard


No symmetry in love lost.
Either the place is wrong or the time is past.

If the place is wrong another interlopes in the space. Things were too ripe or no seed will germinate again.

If time is past now is gone and soon thou will disappear from History.

No warning prepares you. The only certainties you have ever known, gone forever.

Sit quietly in the aura of vanished companionship. Time shall move on, mysteriously unannounced when necessarily concluded.

With a violent start preach one beseeching cry out of the deep distress of the heart. A secret prayer of ceremonial liturgy to a non existent god unapproachable and indifferent.