What is it that your prayers speak?
Sometimes I don't know how I got here, except for a surety in knowing it had something to do with my own choices - except that I cannot seem to find a bridge sturdy enough to bank on, between that me and the me now.
When did the bridge come undone? Could it not be mended? Does it really wish to be so?
To what avail, know not I,
But for now lay these murmurs to rest must I,
For slumber harkens out loud to be tended to thus.
Perchance in a dream I shall awaken again...