Caught between a rock and a hard place
certainties vanish into the far distance,
doubts loom large like a spectre of doom;
I am confused, trapped in my little room.
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I don't know whose hand it is, may be anyone, may be your belief in God, but it's beauty of true love that opens the gates of happiness and the ordeal comes to an end. A lovely description of fleeting of mind..................10
A nice poetic imagination, Isam. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks