Like a fire, it burns and the heart goes restless. The soul is not at peace, it yearns for a release.

Deep within sorrow gradually awakens.Forsaken are words for revelation the concealed birth of a secret creation.

Its use nestles in at a standstill and drops low. Yet, in its full memory, it remains covered and ignored.

A secret keeps still and patiently waits for the light to shine upon it. Waiting to be pulled out from the depths of consciousness. A substance a so silent it festers as a friend or foe, hidden for no one to know.

Earnestly it barks when it appears only to quickly be cast away to dispel dreadful fears and prevent unwanted tears. Release Me! The secret cries only for its request to ascend on deaf ears with a resistant refusal to comply.

Blazing dangerously a secret lingers then in suspense waiting to come forth out of the disillusionment of darkness desiring to be free. It grasps desperately for the wind and to be carried away in the arms of a confession.

The final moment approaches, the secret lashes out violently.

You wrestle with it to keep it contained, yet still as before you whisper with a plea, Be silent, be still.

No! says secret, Let me be free. I can't, you chant.

So, the essence of the secret slowly retreats and softly repeats, Fine. If you will not, the Light will.©

Published by Naomi S. Gobern