Hollow

It's been at least six months. The I am kind of growing used to the absence, to the loneliness of my spirit. I dream about You...about You guiding me and talking to me. I walk on, practicing the principles of truth in faith, because sitting down does me no good. It doesn't draw You nearer. It gives me no rest. I have no direction. I am torn between not wanting to wander too far in case You return and wanting to flee this barren land in search of You.

Shadows lengthen as evening approaches. The whole world seems busy, clattering with preparations. In some ways it is a relief that the day is ending. But I can already feel the tension-my head hurts and my muscles ache-because I have to wake up to another solitary walk tomorrow.

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