In the silence of the street, I try remembering how to pray
The God that was close to my childhood, the everlasting God.
The simple, cheap rosary that I lovingly held every night
The memory must still be there, somewhere, in between times, the naive little girl over there who will offer 1 month of rosary so her favorite badminton player can win the championship game
Please come back to me, my dear prayer that I hold so tight during childhood, the innocence of those days
Have I lost to the path of the Devil? World is so unexpected. We have been involved in the big illusion called the Modern life. So noisy. So daunting. So useless. So meaningless.
-- written some time back in 2006
a0z0ra @ 1:09 PM  |