Misdirection and deceit are formidable players.
Especially where logic bows to madness, and haggard voices hush idle screams. Here, even the wildflowers are bridled and every thought stands ready to exchange itself for another similarly deranged.
Yet here I remain amid the chaos, as if looking down from the sky above. Listening for whispers in the night, trusting that they’ll soon reveal some maiden way forward.
But perhaps I’m only still dreaming.
Image Credit: Pixabay
Return to The Catholic Conspiracy