Tara's Song

Tara hails progress as skimming the now for the next painful round.
Underdressed as usual but sporting the same smile, she is primed for notice but pained underground.
She often calls to mind the troubles behind, and the joy of facing a wealth of grace. She is compelled to expel the trust of them all, if only to hold at distance the fold.

She would wager happy was something for those not living, those with no vision no story. She has right to proclaim and shift the blame, but she sits in mysterious reticent glory.
Great things Tara lie just nigh even when trust is a game for fools. Polish your crown that you tossed down and take those first steps of fate.

She was lonely desperate for trust in place of faux facades, escape lies now only in a daring flight. If only the world had known from your somber tone that love was only bestowed on those who cast no stones. Tepid seems fine when feelings are declined, and you are only as bold as hope that you hold that someday he will arrive.

She wants to blame it all on that one fateful forever, chiding her myopic intuition as she seals off hope. ‘Oh Lord’ she silently cries at another empty night, ‘set me back on what it means to grow and do more than cope’.
God loves what Tara does and His grace will overcome all those broken words. Tara run if you think it for the best, flee and fly, fight to survive and in the end pretend that we did all we could.