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Untitled

steps
one foot in front of the other
the journey is endless and constant
only seeming to cease briefly
before the false promise of termination
to hang in the cold
then as if under the curse of gravity
fall back to the source of all things

endless steps
one way or the other
rising or falling
it dose not matter now
the one same as the other

i have traversed the desert
of life 
of death
the desert that is eternal
seeking an ending
i have returned to the source
where wisdom is folly and reason insufficient
and unwelcome

why then the effort
when no effort might have led me here
and with much less pain
why then the sorrow
when ignorance was my initial state
and as a consequence of my effort find
there was never anything but ignorance
knowledge being just a sad illusion

what have i now
there is no wisdom
no blessed end
and the journey has found me weary
not renewed
not expectant
nor breathless
but weary and aching in mind and body
so that one cannot fully support the other
was it ever otherwise
or is youth itself only illusion
now i have come to think that i was old and worn
even then
and so were you
so were we all
always

i have written lies
still i value truth or say i do
though lies have served me better
lies are beautiful things
they are how we live with ourselves
they are how we kill ourselves
they are how we heal the insatiable longing that
have become tiresome wounds
and how we live with disillusion
lies are
the voice of shadow
the comforting shadow
the cold shadow
the dark voice of dreams
the timeless impulse to know ourselves
as if the only great quest is to know the self
the worthless quest to seek the self

my self is a liar
so my thoughts are lies
my words are lies
my truths are lies
my poems are lies
i have been lied to
and have become the lie
i issued the lie and believed it
for it is the truth of me

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