Why... I ask meekly...

Ahem... I can see that.

...and then, just like that, without warning, I charge at Him angrily as if I was some important person who needed immediate attention. Yet, yet... I am that minute a figure in His presence.

I'm blinded by resentment - of one that impersonates the destructive nature of the waves out at the vast stretch of the ocean. I'm repeatedly pounded by the big WHY. It never fails to stop by. At least, that's the story for now.

My confidence is tucked firmly away in some place hidden. And because of that, I feel as if I've lost my backbone.

I'm pretty stumped with my own question.

And I say to myself, not all questions are meant to have an answer.

I'm plopped down to the floor. I look at the faint reflection staring back at me - almost somewhat a pitiful look.

What now?

I can only wait and see, what becomes of the dreaded.