PDRussell
Bluelighter
Caught--
Up am I
In thought,
Unable to find what I sought.
All these considerations have wrought
Havoc upon my head.
Leaving me dead—
And Dying,
Trying to touch,
Craving to caress
That evasive new frontier,
Formulated from these frothing
Seas of desire.
They churn with doubt,
As I second guess the slightest sight
Of plight in the bout.
No sound route can be concocted.
So, I guess I'm not really caught at all. 'Tis merely submission to indecision.
This prison cell where I dwell
Shelters me from swelling perception,
Flooding new frustration of my intimidation--
Welling up inside.
All I have to do
Is to stride.
To move towards something,
Anything—
I wish, that these thoughts did not persist
To swallow my motion;
Quelling without quenching these stares for a time;
Forcing my face to the ground
As I wallow in my inability to act—
Shamefully.
Teach me to forget these fears of folly.
So that the tension within this curious cord
Will slacken
Allowing me to ac--in,
MY manner of motion.
Up am I
In thought,
Unable to find what I sought.
All these considerations have wrought
Havoc upon my head.
Leaving me dead—
And Dying,
Trying to touch,
Craving to caress
That evasive new frontier,
Formulated from these frothing
Seas of desire.
They churn with doubt,
As I second guess the slightest sight
Of plight in the bout.
No sound route can be concocted.
So, I guess I'm not really caught at all. 'Tis merely submission to indecision.
This prison cell where I dwell
Shelters me from swelling perception,
Flooding new frustration of my intimidation--
Welling up inside.
All I have to do
Is to stride.
To move towards something,
Anything—
I wish, that these thoughts did not persist
To swallow my motion;
Quelling without quenching these stares for a time;
Forcing my face to the ground
As I wallow in my inability to act—
Shamefully.
Teach me to forget these fears of folly.
So that the tension within this curious cord
Will slacken
Allowing me to ac--in,
MY manner of motion.
