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State Of Being
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My life is but a beginning and an end,
With states of fantasy in between.
The soul strives, the heart murmurs;
The mind demands for less routine.
I wonder what shadow I'll be wearing
When the disillusion starts to wane?
What stop light will be for me alone
When there are no more lies to blame?
Who traces the lines of an empty page
When all the pencils have been broken?
My seeking truth has been a mockery
Of words jumbled and oddly unspoken.
The blood in my veins runs too vividly
For me to pretend I am a shallow hole.
I must capture the seconds offered
As if my term of being had been paroled.
My life is an end and a beginning,
With traces of sanity I have discovered.
No more must I pretend indifference!
Instead, I must be solitude uncovered.
