Drip, drip, a rhythmic tale the house whispers in anxiety's defense a story untold, a narrative within its walls Voices barge through A subtle prompt, a dual-edged sword both plaguing and soothing, tension unfolds a soft refrain, arousing thought, inviting contemplation The faucet's gentle murmur, a tormentor's lullaby nature's hushed secrets, a relentless throng a constant stir, begging for release (make it stop) Drip, drip a reverie, a liquid muse of despair disclosing secrets, emotions laid on the kitchen counter with every drop, muffled weeps anxiety's relentless call In deep caverns of the soul echoes linger where sound patiently navigates sculpting stones, a haunting embrace. Yet, is it merely water's voice we discern, or do our hearts yearn something more profound? a metaphor - perhaps a symbol within the mist the voices persist This is the writer's odyssey each word a journey, a narrative intent the water guides a silent ballet persisting through night and day So, let the play advance break this dire existence release the torrent of emotions Drip, drip "can you turn the faucet off?"
I completely agree with you! This degree has introduced me to a world of history and culture. Thank you for…
I hear your conundrum; I too suffer from a ‘title’ that doesn’t pay the mortgage…Beowulf, Dante’s Inferno, Canterbury Tales are…
Welcome
Thank you!
Good stuff.
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Anxious Thoughts
Navigating life’s uncertainties, one word at a time
Anxious Thoughts 
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