Waiting for visions to open up before me, giving signs to follow on my way out of life.
So far there haven’t been any, I just sense feelings and knowings as I go my way, preparing for departure as I wantonly go ahead into scribbles of indecision, looking for more to go by as I walk forward.
time in life.Torrents of happiness, finding their waythrough a front door.
Keeping me thinking of suicidal ideas tosate the cravingswithin my mind.
As carefully as anyone can be, we all succumb to it’s free will and we live life to it’s fullest extent or we don’t.Our free wills mingle with those of life and we seem to always stand still or can’t stop.
All is quiet, withering, nondescript – a lone pathway fora single being, traveling, solo, amid blackness of despair,unable to feel or hear, senses completely dulled.A continuing apathy of and for this world – not beingpracticed at this moment.Entire moods like tidal waves erupt, cover and ebb away,leaving no debris, no thought or reprieve, alone within…
Lasting on a thread of despair with no hope befalling me again.Withering in the shadows, alone, gray, breathing slowly, giving in to a calling deeper than myself.
