Sometimes, Being alone with my demons, or in thoughtful harmony with angels, whilst drowning alone in silence is comforting within my inauspicious life .
Sometimes, Being alone is the only place, where there is forbearance, where I can remain contemplative as thoughts flow within my mind.
Sometimes, There is beauty in remaining silent, my unheard passions are never denied; But I am to remain unloved as the continuity of ticking clocks pass time by?
Or is my mind irresolute by the shadows of ambivalent thought? My mind shall remain at war with itself until it is slowly torn in two.
The chasm ever-expanding, until eventually my mind seeks calming reason, with an opportunity.
And then I begin to write.