Are you Comfort or are you Mercy?

Gliding in on a fresh breath of air,
I can taste inconsistence on your frame,
you are different, you are strange.
Are you Comfort or are you Mother Mercy?
Are you Mother Earth or Father Sky?
Time will squeeze us dry and we will all become the same.

Some want peace,
I just want change.

All things shall be all things?


I've tried to allow myself the comfort of a warm blanket to settle my thoughts but dream of mercy to take away the pain. The foul taste in my mouth and the stench of failure drift in and out of the sensory portions of my brain. They turn into electric currents cruising through the synapses of my mind. These are all things and all things are fine. The television set emits a small light in my room as I ease my wandering soul back to rest. I know it's not the same as it used to be, I know you wish you could be somewhere else. I'm trying to change, I promise that I'll do it this time. Soulless I've entered therevadan Buddhist bliss. Annattman. Annicca. There is no permanance. Reality is in constant flux. I'm sorry for constantly apologizing it's just that you make it seem like I've done so much wrong.

Misery is a hospital bed away. Hope is a hospital bed away.
In the eyes of the patient it's either/or and sometimes both or in between.
If that makes sense.