Imprisoned in the madness we call life
Imprisoned in the monumental material world
I walk, lost, searching for me
Not knowing there is nothing to search
Everytime I walk the way to where there is no way anymore
To find myself at the place where I always was
Never left, never returned
I was always there
where I thought
I never was
So simple and so true. I just had a conversation last night about struggle…why do we struggle, when we find ourselves at the place we always were?
Beautiful, again…thank you, Christine!