| I await your call, but it does not arrive. The spark within flickers, can it survive? Survive the unspoken of words not yet said- Survive my perceptions of being misled. Survive the turmoil of the story I create- As I wait for your call that will decide my fate. Will the spark flicker and silently fold- If the answers it seeks are left untold? Or will it burn brightly if I just let go- Of the need to understand and the need to know. The chains of your approval I hereby release What you think can not define me. So keep your silence, and harbor your story It’s not mine to take-in stealing- no glory. And it is not your call that fuels the flame- I can turn the ringer off, and end this game. |