This Quest, Was It But a Sad Rage Against the Storm

This Quest, Was It But A Sad Rage Against The Storm As I wade through this poisonous wilderness- alone Raging fury contained well within my breast Seeing earth's darkness, cold- cold as a frozen stone I trudging onward, seeking that elusive rest. My sanity cries out, begging release from pain. Desperate plea, salvation I seek to attain. Where fled the hopeful happiness of tender youth Dawns of wonderment and prayers of eager soul The immense pride and dear blessing of seeking truth Battling the darkness that is vying for control. My sanity cries out, begging release from pain. Desperate plea, salvation I seek to attain. This quest, was it but a sad rage against the storm Perhaps a hopeless quest soothing vanity's aches Or futile journey to find a place safe and warm Or deeper separation from this world of fakes. My sanity cries out, begging release from pain. Desperate plea, salvation I seek to attain. As I wade through this poisonous wilderness- alone Raging fury contained well within my breast Seeing earth's darkness, cold- cold as a frozen stone I trudging onward, seeking that elusive rest. Robert J. Lindley, 2-01-2021 Rhyme, ( The search for life's truth and a better tomorrow ) Tribute given to the inspiring poem by Emily Dickinson: XXVI ("The farthest thunder") XXVI The farthest thunder that I heard Was nearer than the sky, And rumbles still, though torrid noons Have lain their missiles by. The lightning that preceded it Struck no one but myself, But I would not exchange the bolt For all the rest of life. Indebtedness to oxygen The chemist may repay, But not the obligation To electricity. It founds the homes and decks the days, And every clamor bright Is but the gleam concomitant Of that waylaying light. The thought is quiet as a flake, — How life's reverberation Its explanation found!