Each poem here is preceded by an epigraph at varying lengths.
Word's love, calls to us.
But who can endure the response?
A window opened on a world screaming.
And those without insisted it was real.
Some random day, it will quietly close,
and I will go back to a home I never left.
Then, another opened in a strange wind,
but I turned away for torment over glass.
Now, I must pray it does not close, before I find
the bliss hiding in that pain.