There's so many things of which to write,
of people I know,
of things I've seen,
of errors of wrong,
and the good things of right.
But time speeds by, opportunities flee,
they don't pause,
they don't look back,
they both are constants,
not bound by procrastinations, such as fools like me.
Some sage may have said,"Give me the will, I'll find away"-
to do the impossible,
to think the positive,
to right the wrong,
to stretch my soul,
to work while it's yet day.
Ah! the Imagination of the active mind,
the romance of the heart,
leads to dreams,
excites the fantasies,
creates the adventurer.
What matters whether a role, or "real life" part?
If I feel my burden is too heavy to bear,
I lay it down,
I close my weary eyes,
I really have small worry,
I'll not be bound by the "passing life's" futile care.
Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.
The compass of my life is gone,
will I ever find another?
I search for my guidance among the many voices,
in futility, I shout why bother.
For no one cares about me and where I go,
and the dead ends I encounter.
I can do this myself, my rage screams into the dark,
as my soul is becoming numb and downer.
I can no longer cry,
I can no longer feel,
I have spent all my emotions,
I am an empty shell,
No longer able to be joyful and let my spirit fly.
These troubles have overtaken me,
the evil ones have drug me down to their layers,
confusing my mind,
compass, oh, God, where are you?
Show me the way to flee.
Speak to me,
not with signs or wonders,
talk to me like your child you left behind.
The one who skinned his knee,
and you rushed into to console.
Help me see.
You said I could hear what you heard if I wanted too,
but those songs of heaven you heard before you entered his bosom are beyond me.
I only hear the echoes of my own voice coming back to me,
shattering my mind with, "What do you do? What do you do?"
Hate, anger, and rage fill up my thoughts, at people that loathe me and hurt those I love,
this is what consumes my sleep, without my compass,
eating at who I am,
who I was,
the world around changing me,
reshaping me into their mold,
tearing at my sense of self,
never satisfied until I am dammed.
I am to be silenced,
the joy to be saddened,
the happiness to be frowned,
the peace to be chaotic,
the love to be replaced by greed,
not until I have been lanced.
Compass, I wait for the dream of you to come,
to show me what you are seeing, hearing, and feeling.
But only the silence I held to my whole life,
which now threatens to consume me.
You were my guide in this world of pain,
your judgements guided by a higher life,
in a world yet to come.
In my silence I continue to wait,
for the day or night, by dream or vision,
that my compass chooses to reveal this to me.
To find out my fate.
searching my heart,
searching my mind,
searching my spirit,
searching my soul,
helpless to help those around me,
trying to lead a family falling at the seams,
longing for a time with you.
God help me,
I wait, oh, compass, I wait.
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