again,
in my uncertain hour
I am left alone
with God.
pondering
the very same and tired
old conundrum..
where have our choices
gotten us.

the freedom
He bestowed upon us
has been our
greatest blessing
and our
wickedest curse..
the blessing
and the curse
to choose.
the freedom
to be writers
of our own
authentic truth.

in all of us
there is a narrative
that hiddenly
unfolds..
it is revealed to us
as it is written.
within it
every indecision
is its own choice.
and every hesitation
speaks in its own voice.
when one of us
wagers it all..
and the other one
chooses to fold..
who is the real winner?
how would I know..

we are each our own
playwrights and actors..
but behind the stage
there always operate..
a multitude of factors.
factors that outside
of our intentions
drive the play..
whether with
or else in lieu of us..
they always
get their say.

for, we are the singers
in some narratives..
and then in others
we are forced
to turn the page..
and who is there to blame?
such is the will of fates.
not every narrative
is meant to see
the light of day.
some of them
arrive to us
stillborn..
some of them
are meant to stay..
forever untold.

one truth is certain though..
my lady fortune favors
only the courageous
and the bold.
whereas the ones who fail
to choose me back..
in my most vulnerable moment,
of their own accord..
I shall not ever beg to hold.

dear God..
if only that you knew
how much it hurts.
if only pains
already felt
from making
all the same mistakes
were better teachers..
if only that I was
a better student
of the truths
that they were
preaching.