As I tiptoe towards the edge,
certain, uncertainty blinds my sight.
In my blindness, I could sense two paths,
Paths that seem uncertain,
Paths that shines as light.

Divine is it's intervention,
A light that shines me blind.
Streams that always has an end,
In solitude I have to halt;
Yet, I am not alone.

Striking features of that dream I had,
Overtakes me yet again.
My zealous soul will never die,
It has to gallop on towards the light.
I place it all to the Divine,
May your will come to pass.

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a self-assuring prayer