Turmoil

Am i clutching at cobwebs in the rain? Have i held on for too long? Is this my very own Kubla khan conjured out of the depths of my faith? Or perhaps a promise born to be broken after so many years of solace? So many questions in my head... No one to lean to like a grasping shoot Nobody comprehends the makings of my world Even as they utter the words i terribly long to hear My only assuagement is to seek self assertion Hoping that my thoughts are not of the workings of sinister intent Yet i have to ask, have you ever felt trapped by your own decisions Have you been torn to pieces knowing that which you must not undo Fearing that one step in any direction will be the source of your disengagement Yearning for a voice from above smiling down, saying "...i am well pleased" Seeking in the spirit that very thing which you must unveil in isolation The revelation dawns in intense clarity My disclosure i will not unsheathe by mere contemplation Certainly not in the arms of he who deems to dispossess me For what else can he proffer if not words of incitement So to fate i have recourse to leave the adjudication Of a certainty to resolve the creation of companion, Cupid While i remain here in my dark twisted world, the turmoil ever deepening.