It's weird how failure and bitterness both taste the same and remind me of drinking a cup of rancid coffee.

Briefly Spoken Words at Half

What is a smile?
But the smallest and most genuine token of the heart.
A gift given to embolden the spirit
and hearten in through storm and trial.
Hearkening strength and delivering merit
it protects the soul from fiery darts
delivered through mispronunciation
and what has become dire bitterness.

But what is this smile?
A gift to deliver me through this trial
lifting me by blessing
regardless of my mess and my inability for lifting.

My fear is that someday we might
become each others own worst enemy
that distance and miles will pile
in width and height,
that we will only agree
that we simply must disagree
and begin the soul's final exile.

But hope still remains.
With both love and faith,
remaining the steadfast bane
of every demon, every liar
and every foe before our path.
Their loss becomes our gain
becoming hollowed words that hath
rendered our love complete.

My favorite paradox?

You of course.