I locked myself behind closed doors
for a while, to try and counter my mood.
What was my mood you ask?
Melancholic really, strongest at night,
separating me from my higher self,
from what I was feeling at the deepest,
most intimate level of my own divine mosaic.
Constantly I drew myself, this life on shards of paper,
simply hoping for some kind of homecoming
or welcoming at least, from within so as to locate
that singular spiritual peak from which I could soar.
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