My words don’t get through to you. And it doesn’t help that I struggle with what I have to say. When has getting my message across become difficult? But then they say the truth was never easy. And then they say that truth is subjective.
There is little time. I fear the gathering of the clouds, the stirring of the wind. I could feel it seeping in my bones. Dark times are about to arrive and they will not be shy about their business. After all, what’s the point of coming here if they won’t do what they are supposed to do?
But I’ll tell you this: What are WE supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?
My words don’t get through to you. And it doesn’t help that you’ve made up your mind.