As the wind blows wherever it
pleases, the faith settles wherever it amuses. It dwells on to one’s liking and
saves who it wants. It dares thrive in the worst scene but can’t wage to burgeon
if ever affected. Alike healing wound fairly exhibiting the scar, the rusted trust
can be mended and yet shine forth but never to its former glory. Small attention and little effort are enough to let it falter. It has a life of breaking glass and an effect of ocean-deep. Playing with fire is to get yourself burned, playing with the noose is to get yourself hanged, likewise taking undue advantage to infringe the trust is to entrap oneself in the pain that befalls.
Trusting too much is to rust unless it is in the positive light and
too much rust will end up in the dust. So, dust off the rust and maintain the trust.
Rust the dust, not the trust.
