“I’m sorry; I never meant for it to become this.”

My feeble apology is not half of what he deserves. Beside me my weary muse, my worn metaphor merely shrugs, resigned.

Character is destiny.”

Should I be proud of the creation who goes willingly to his fate, or ashamed of myself for setting him to that course? Tell me, Lord, which were you?


One thought on “#1101

  1. Fine words leading to the ultimate question.”Oh do not ask what is it, let us go and make our visit” (T.S.Eliot). I felt weary too.

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