Oh River, dear friend.
How clearly do you know your path.
While I sit here, clueless
Looking for direction
Hoping this apathy will lapse

To be still, to let what must pass, pass,
To trust that what must be, will be,
That in faith I will find my Destiny,
All of this I know and yet
In my heart there is a pit
A void I must fill.

Oh River, I sit beside you in friendship,
For in you I can confide.
My soul finds it difficult to share its pain and
in your presence I hope I may some answers find.

Life has been busy and now 
it quietens down,
In the noise of constant activity,
I drowned 
and forgot how to listen to my deeper self.

But now I Hear.
And what, I do not know.
As I delve into my depths, tell me
Where do I go?
Tell me, how do I reach 
My soul.

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts I cannot comprehend
The wider picture is missing
The pieces are magic, the whole is perfection
And yet there is a blindness
A could I cannot dispel
But my friend, I have embarked on a journey
And I have faith it ends well.

A journey I undertake to reconnect with my spirit.
And understand the unease in my heart.
Listening to your course and your nature
In my journey I embark 
to surrender
And to let myself be taken by the flow.

A journey I hope leads to my soul.
 

Drowning 
Drowning so deep I just.
don’t know. where I’m going
anymore

Taken by a journey
and its too late to turn back.

Only move forward.

No matter how hard I try
I can’t stop thinking about
the days.
I look back at the pictures
I look back to the past.
And I cry

This time,
its different.

There’s a reason why I can’t slap
yet words don’t slap
they destroy.

My words are an atomic bomb. Never slap. Kill. Torture. Ravage - and I
and I can’t undo the damage 
the damage that is done. 

I stare at what I’ve done. Just stare,
and while he sees indifference
he can’t see the hurt, the pain that hides beneath the screen.

When I try to piece it all back together
how can I expect anyone to take me seriously
how can I expect anyone to think anything of me other than
a liar
a hypocrite.

This time. Its different.
Drowning so deep
Too late to turn back
I can’t stop thinking
And I cry.
Only move forward.

You don’t understand. This time is different.
I fight the storm that pushes me
where no one wants to be.

I fight the guilt, the hurt, the regret. 
I chose my way
a way I was too weak to take.

A road without signs, 
Dark.
No lampposts.
Nothing to guide.
If I fall
deep deep deep
into a hole
that even as I fall
I cannot see.

Words can encourage me
or they can drown me
but in the end
they don’t drag me up, 
that is only for me to do.

I let myself go
don’t restrain
just let go

Pray.

Breathe.
I breathe and look out the window.
but no matter how hard I breathe
I’m broken

No breath of fresh air will piece me back
together. 

Pray that time will heal.

Thrust me down into the deepest hole.
I said I would never give up.
 

Defeated.
Alone.
No words.

No words.
Just me staring at my desk
head in hands
eyes
tears
don’t want to
pour 
my soul
I don’t know.

I listen to the background noise
of what I could destroy
if I open my mouth

Words.
But there are none.

So why do I write on this
blank page.
As I fail to speak
my
thoughts

I don’t know
what
to
I
am
lost.

Lost
in mad darkness.

I am
weak.

Weak 
as a storm
trapped in a cage
where the lightning is 
too soft to hate.

I don’t know.
 

Alone.
I am an immobile stone.
Desperation hits as I
attempt to stop an unstoppable 
storm.

That never ends
that I can't heal

Caused by the
evil workings of a violent world.

The human race has provoked it
as it ravages the beautiful lands
that once existed
in a place now unknown

A world now unknown.

Desperate
we try to find ourselves
fighting against a force that thrusts us
downward.

A force that feeds on
our everlasting blindness.
Ill, we damage the
world around us.

Storms arise
front
back
inside us.

What power do I have against
this mass destruction?

Desperate I work to
fight against 
the blindness
imposed consequence of
this world’s violence

Desperate 
I fight against the 
attack that those
unwilling have 
forced onto
this crying world.

I pick up the dust.
Dust that once made up
the unwavering stone
that fought against the
impossible power
of injustice.

Pieces back together
I look at myself.

Alone
An immobile stone.
I fight against
the unstoppable storm
the force that
feeds on our blindness
the world’s violence.

I have no power against this
mass destruction.

I am dust,
broken by the impossible
power of injustice.

A crying world.

My hope is crushed
I am powerless.
But I will never give up.