I am but a traveler
Spinning through time
Without innocence, yet naive
An aimless wanderer,
A vagabond of spirit
Stripped of all sanity
I know not what I long for
Nor do I seek out what I need
For pride, my marionettist
Won’t cut the threads that control me
And my psyche longs to rebel
For it has tasted a bite of freedom
None know I have a depraved heart
For a smile is all they see
My deceptions run too deep
And one cannot discern the difference
Between genuine emotion
And dark lies inside of me
For my heart’s a forlorn passenger
The world its broken spine
Forgotten in the midst of
The light for which I pine
Drowning me in despair
Watching as the air bubbles float to the surface
I have waited for what feels like a thousand years
For the storm to arrive
It hovers nonchalantly at the horizon
Waiting, like a lion hidden in the tall grass,
For the opportune moment to strike
The air has become so thick with moisture
So heavy, almost droopy-eyed
The darkened rain falls relentless in the distance
Too evanescent for form to take on any meaning
Like a thought that flutters and then passes by
The storm quivers, like an arrow held by an unsteady hand
The lightning, a jagged line that splits open the sky
The world flashes white for the fraction of a moment
And I hold my breath, silently waiting
For the thunder clap that never reaches these ears of mine
The wind picks up, almost as if the air itself fears the storm’s coming
The once fallen leaves swirl in their wistful dance
Beckoning, almost daring the storm to wander nearer
And then I know in a moment of crystal clarity
The storm has passed, almost as soon as it began
Here’s an old post I found on another one of my blogs. Somehow I just love how this ends, so I thought I’d post it here.
~*~*~
I am walking blindly
Looking nowhere
Knowing nothing,
But I am not lost
For there is nowhere
That I want to be
There is no place
To which I am going.
I had come
To know myself
As the road wound
Round and round
There were rare
Glimpses of good
But more a mask
I wore than true skin
For I had to hide
My beloved ugliness.
My dark deception
Led more astray
For a mask
Is always misleading
No matter how little
Is covered
But all realized
Sooner or later
The dark
Disposition
Of my tainted soul
And they took
The first train home.
So blindly
I stumbled and fell
But no mistakes
Could teach me
How to walk
Without falling
Or maybe I refused
To learn
And my stubbornness
My ideas of life
Kept tripping me
At every step.
So now I stand here
With nothing
No hopes
No dreams
Only compromises
With life
All my ideals
And beliefs shattered
All my hopes
And desires forsaken
I long for nothing now
Except solitude.
Alas, I know someday
I shall meet a fork
On this lonely road
And I will be forced
To choose between
Two roads of destruction
And tempted though I am
To walk away from both
I am only a blind beggar
Stumbling along the way
With no choice at all
For how are two roads
Each leading
To a different monster
A choice in any way?
I know that dwelling in the past leads to nothing good,
But I find it hard not to look back and realize,
That with time I have become tainted,
That innocence, that desire to be helpful,
That want to make the world a better place,
Has faded into the background, maybe lost forever.
Maybe I have become too self-centered;
I behave as if the world revolves around me
That my problems are the biggest of problems.
Yet, I find myself confused, for I often believe,
That I have changed for the better,
I have become more comfortable in my skin,
I have realized that trying to please,
The whole world is pointless.
I have realized that there will be people who,
Disagree with what I believe, Or hate me for who I am.
I have realized that people will hold,
Grudges for years to come,
Even though they don’t even know who I am today.
Oddly, I’m perfectly fine with that,
I don’t care any more, since I realize,
Who I want to have in my life,
And who does not matter to me.
I know who those few real friends of mine are,
And I know that I can say or do anything
Without them misunderstanding or judging.
With them, I’m not afraid of being myself,
I’m not afraid of having opinions,
I’m not afraid of standing up for what I believe in.
Maybe they give me a false sense of courage.
I also realized that with time,
One can learn to overcome their shortcomings,
It is never too late to learn things,
It is never too late to be better.
Had I let such thoughts bring me down,
I never would have been doing,
Some of the things I love today.
And even if tomorrow I feel like I know nothing,
I’ll just give it a few days,
Decide to work on the things I lack,
And I’ll become better at what I do.
I have a thirst to learn,
And that keeps me moving.
Yet, I still feel uncomfortable knowing,
That I’ve lost that desire to be helpful,
That I’ve become content with life as it is now,
In spite of the pain and suffering that animals
And people all over the world face.
I also know this is a difficult problem to solve,
Maybe even impossible,
But why should that stop me from doing something?
I never was ambitious, I just wanted to help,
Now I am without ambition, just apathetic,
Without longing to do something good.
Sometimes I don’t even know if I am doing
Others wrong by having pity,
For I don’t walk in their shoes.
Maybe the world doesn’t need saving,
And I just want to feed my ego.
I long for silence in the depths of my mind.
The words are spiralling like snow in a snowstorm.
Slippery and hard to catch, leaving me watching,
As the crystals melt into nothingness.
Maybe it is better this way,
For most words are meaningless.
Except, some words seem to be balls of ice,
That leave behind bruises as they fall to the ground.
Frozen in this wintry madness, unable to move.
There is white all around me, pure, untouched.
I long to reach out, and feel the warmth,
Of these snowflakes, soft and welcoming,
Before the numbness crawls up my veins.
But there is an element of pain in healing,
It is easier to let my lids feel heavy and fall,
As I slowly lose myself to the numbing cold.
There is a despair in the howling of the wind,
As if every moment it loses an essential part of its soul.
The mind is trapped under an avalanche,
And does not know above from below.
I long to awaken and see colors, blue, darkness,
Anything other than this white idiosyncracy.
No, I just realized I have my words all mixed up,
The white is too consistent all around me.
The craze of the storm must drift into serenity,
The snow must fall sleepily, with a defined purpose.
I am still awake, my mind slowly thawing,
But the numbness wants to keep its newfound control.
The roads are covered uniformly with blissful white,
I want to move, but I have lost all sense of direction,
How long must a soul aimlessly wander,
Before realizing that it is not yet lost?
Volatile, like ethanol,
My thoughts evaporate,
One after another,
Until the mind finds,
Itself drunken on words,
Flowing endlessly from,
The depths of my imagination.
Worlds unknown, borrowed,
From the world we live in,
Encumbered by the limitations,
Of all we see and believe,
Yet still the surreal voices,
Echoing from written verse,
Seem so strange to hear.
Visions of our deepest fears,
Darkness and chaos,
Come together to spread,
Terror in our hearts,
Only to be shattered
By heroes unheard of,
To melt all that makes us afraid.
Like an artist without a brush,
Always painting pictures,
From the depths of the soul,
With colors unknown,
But felt in every stroke,
Of the pen we dearly hold,
As the heart bleeds.
The song of the heart,
Escapes as barely a whisper,
Floating through the air,
Like a fragrant perfume,
Sweet and uplifting,
Touching all but the person,
For whom it was sung.
These feelings in my heart,
Rarely spoken of,
Yet always written about,
Bring into solid form,
My true inner self,
More realistically than,
The words left unspoken.
What am I without my muse;
Without the pen in my hand,
And thoughts wild in my mind;
Without empty words,
Building so much meaning;
Without momentary feelings,
Bringing life permanence?
I would be Nothing,
But the sweet fragrance,
Of wild strawberries,
Floating through the air,
Untouched, unfelt, unheard.
Yet always present,
Silently hidden.
A coffee addiction,
Growing stronger each day,
And I find I cannot,
Keep my eyes open,
I find I cannot focus,
Without a sip of,
Without the scent of,
Coffee in the air.
The beans tell stories,
Of lives they have lived,
Filling the air with richness,
To make up for our lack,
Of life each day.
Maybe I am searching,
For truth in these beans,
My mind is muddled,
With garbage,
My thoughts are hazy,
And I am always pining,
For clarity in my life,
The life I didn’t ask to live.
The aroma weaves,
Through the soul,
Like the wand of a magician,
Creating illusions,
Binding them to reason,
And still a sense of wonder,
Hangs on to the pinnacle of the mind,
Before the thoughts take a leap,
Into the abyss below.
I never wanted
My mind to wander,
Into unfathomable lands,
Straying from my needs,
To a land of only wants,
Where reason and practicality,
Have no place,
Where my heart works against,
The rationality of my mind.
The fragrance of coffee keeps me sane,
A temporary sanity throughout the day,
Until I have drunk too much,
And my head starts spinning,
I know not any longer,
Why the heart yearns,
For pasts thrown away,
And impossible futures,
Why the mind knows reason,
But acts irrationally,
Why does only the unattainable,
Appeal to this brat of a mind?
A voice like a whisper,
Catches me off my guard,
Through this coffee addiction,
A voice of reason can still be heard,
And I know days of withdrawal,
Are needed now,
After which I will be fine,
Smiling as always,
Still seeking the unknown,
But this time I won’t get lost.
Hey you, my thoughtless whisper,
Floating out there in the void of my mind,
Stop, don’t fly away from me,
Please stay with me just this one time.
My thoughts have been wandering,
Nightmares have begun to feel like real life,
This drop of darkness keeps me grounded,
As I watch my heart slowly turn to ice.
Maybe this is what they call growing older,
This need to be stabbed just to know you’re still alive,
But like an addiction, the dosage gets higher,
For inside, it’s the dead and empty feelings that thrive.
I no longer know if my den keeps me sane,
Or whether it’s an escape from reality, in which I hide,
As I watch those closest to me burn as they catch fire,
I wonder, am I really numb or just a coward inside?
There are those days, when the light shines brightly,
And I feel more than I’ve felt in years,
But I know, as I try to hang on to the sunlight,
My heart will freeze over, taking with it all my tears.
From a distance, I can feel the warmth,
But as I step closer, all I feel is the biting cold,
And in frustration, I let the emptiness wash over me,
Now it’s easier to just escape, if truth be told.
Howdy Stranger,
Here you are, just passing by,
Won’t you stay a while,
And share a piece of your mind?
I promise, I will sit here listening,
To the stories you’ve got to tell
Of your wandering and pondering,
And the longing of your heart.
I once had rivers of words to share,
But now my river runs dry,
For I find myself become colder as I grow older,
And my yearnings have been set aside.
Don’t let that stop you from speaking,
For it does not mean that I do not care,
This is all I cherish now, oh Stranger,
To remember as time passes me by.
Was the road long and winding,
The road that brought you here?
Who do you remember the best,
From all the faces you hold dear?
My road was straightforward,
But my stubborn soul took a detour,
And never could I find my road again,
Now I’m a lost wanderer, trying to get home.
Where are you heading, dear Stranger,
Do you even know, or do you just wander,
Looking for a whim to hold your hand,
As you follow in blindfolds?
Choose your whims carefully,
And peek through the cracks
To make sure you don’t wander too far
From all that you have come to care for.
It’s almost time for you to leave,
To catch up with the winding river,
As it guides you to the greater ocean,
Where I hope you find what you’re searching for.
I know, you will never look back
At this careless moment,
And the only sign that you were here
Will be this melted candle wax left behind.
Inside the Mind of a Lunatic 