Enumeration Of Deficiencies

I seek humility sauntering in the night rain praying for homeless souls, stray and abused dogs, and for the long dead. The provision of my existence is a diet of plain bread and meaningful words, as well as a memory of tears for my midnight water. After a certain age, suffering is understood even if personally and physically spared; the eyes have seen and the heart felt the infirm grasp of a hand and the slow and painful gait of someone we love approaching celestial shores. Sermons speak of abundant peace but it seems superfluous and myth-like, utterly detached from the experiences of life and the daily accumulations of abandonment and hurt. I once thought I had holy designs, sacred thoughts and an innocent mind; but I replay in constant repeat every incident in which I've been unkind to another. I'm hoping God, the universe, or simply death will be merciful but I expect an inevitable stay in Hades regardless if it failed to exist just prior to my arrival. Sometimes you meet someone entirely sincere and uncorrupted; it's a portent and a mystery for inexplicable spiritual realms. Have you ever been kissed by an assumed enemy you've spent years teaching yourself to despise to discover they've long forgotten injuries of the past? The days continue for mourning and the enumeration of deficiencies for which I just can't forgive myself.