A
Andrew B
Guest
Deeper things
I have lost my talent and dont kno where to find it...
Mine was the power to create worlds from the stuff of thoughts and great was it but it was an empowerment of the soul that enabled my heart to pour forth my fruit and without passion slowly have i become complacent so no longer can i call forth stars but rather i look up at the darkened sky and wander far away into the depths of my soul to find the vestiges of me that i have forgotten....
All i have within me is no more than a spark of what i had,what do i live for now,every breath i take is no more than an obligatory gesture for im not truly living...without the source of me... pale into a shadow that is little more than a remberance of the man who used to be so WHO AM I...
Could it be the charmer with words of honey
or the lover who understood the power of the rapture
maybe the artist who called forth beauty from the simple
the genius who saw the secrets of the universe laid bare
the strong one on who's shoulders stood his worth
I rest myself on mercy and for now that is sufficient but what of my soul what of me whoever i am what is His fate...could i by virtue of my being exist only as a pre-requisite for some greater purpose and if so what is that? my mind- maelstrom...Help me to find the balance for truly that is what i desire but once spent the question remains the same WHO AM I....
certainly not a child
maybe a man
a warrior but no battle
a guardian of no charge
a riddle wrapped in a paradox shrounded by mystery clothed in a puzzle loved by deception...
who am i truly....
I have lost my talent and dont kno where to find it...
Mine was the power to create worlds from the stuff of thoughts and great was it but it was an empowerment of the soul that enabled my heart to pour forth my fruit and without passion slowly have i become complacent so no longer can i call forth stars but rather i look up at the darkened sky and wander far away into the depths of my soul to find the vestiges of me that i have forgotten....
All i have within me is no more than a spark of what i had,what do i live for now,every breath i take is no more than an obligatory gesture for im not truly living...without the source of me... pale into a shadow that is little more than a remberance of the man who used to be so WHO AM I...
Could it be the charmer with words of honey
or the lover who understood the power of the rapture
maybe the artist who called forth beauty from the simple
the genius who saw the secrets of the universe laid bare
the strong one on who's shoulders stood his worth
I rest myself on mercy and for now that is sufficient but what of my soul what of me whoever i am what is His fate...could i by virtue of my being exist only as a pre-requisite for some greater purpose and if so what is that? my mind- maelstrom...Help me to find the balance for truly that is what i desire but once spent the question remains the same WHO AM I....
certainly not a child
maybe a man
a warrior but no battle
a guardian of no charge
a riddle wrapped in a paradox shrounded by mystery clothed in a puzzle loved by deception...
who am i truly....