Dust blotches grace the glasses, a 5 o'clock look accompanied, a frail smile.
Endless collection of knowledge, pages soaked in ink, names after names. A moment of hopelessness, a moment of belief, do you believe?
In the words of the saints, in the words of wisdom, in the words of the all Knowing.
I, just am a soul entrapped within a body, by a will, a gift from the highest power.
The skill which crafted me, the skilled Creator who crafted you, does it come on it's own?
If so, grant me the power to craft a life out of the blue, if not, bow down to the Creator.
If the moments that will follow, there won't be an explanation, for I do not know.
In the moments of hopelessness, in the moments of belief, would you believe?
The cup is empty, wrinkled you will be, in the days to come.
In the days to come, would you believe in the Creator's miracle?