It's been quite some time since I have actually had to open that old vault of the hidden and share the darkness with someone else. Oh, it's not all coldness; there is a light and color hidden deep within it's recesses. That is what is hidden with the utmost care and sensitivity. The damp road through is really short-lived, though the end isn't really celebration.
The lock is not too hard to open. The key is around here somewhere; it is in his speech, his care, his trust, his hope. The key is almost in his grasp; it is in his kindness, his tenderness, his intention, his unceasing attention.
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