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.
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