give me strength to carry on,
my non-corporeal form fades fast.
eats me up inside.
takes my guts and squashes them.
makes my brain ravage,
takes my hopes and burns them.
takes my day and flips it upsidedown.
makes me go backwards and then forwards,
and then sideways and diagonally.
i see the path ahead
and i see the road behind me.
it feels like a lost highway
in the middle of the desert
heat rising in either direction: mirage
fantasy, unreal, real, tortuous, taunting.
my past long gone
my future in the air
something might happen
maybe nothing will ever happen
all i can do is move forward into the dark.
no one by my side to help me.
not a soul.
not one single person.
if i was an animal
i'd be a wolf with his ribs poking out
i'm caring and forgiving
i'm the best listener out there
and people always want to use and abuse me
in relation to those traits
i'd usually do anything for you
at the drop of a hat
it's just my way.
ive been walking this desert for
many months now
about to keel over from heat stroke
show me the end
show me the red ribbon
the finish line
where cheers and loved ones await
im running my own race at my own pace
and now i require strength
i need strength to continue
to drag my heavy feet and legs
and get a move on
i don't want to give up
but my body seems to want to give way
drop to its knees and skid
burn in the pavement, the glaring hot sun
and toast 'n char until black
the last question i have is
what am i?
.
what am i?
what am i?
what am i?
there comes a time in every man's race
when he comes to a hault
he pauses and he looks into the sun
squinting seeing purple blotted light
sweat glistening, skin burning
putting his hand up to his brow
breathing heavy and looking around 360 degrees
and i realize that
there is no finish line
there is no ribbon
there is no one waiting for me
and i begin to question myself
why do i run
why do i keep going
i don't have an answer
so i remove my hand from my brow
and i close my eyes
and my head drifts, tilts upwards
i breathe in deep
i smell the earth and heat around me
i rub the scars around my elbow
and touch the cuts on my arms
my head tilts downward
head level
no one's coming daniel
not a soul
the devil whispers
not a soul,
but i'll have yours
and i can't stop his words
from entering my head
i can't help but think he's right
god doesn't necessarily lie to you
but / and he doesn't necessarily help you
but the devil tells you the truth
and that's what hurts more
and that's why i must continue
i must motivate myself
i open my eyes and keep running
determined
eyes fixed
on the line in the horizon
i'll never reach that finish line
(if one exists)
unless i try.
if trying is the only way to find out
then damnit i'll try
if failing is the only way to learn
..
then i've learned well
and if winning is happiness i'll let you know when i get there,
because it sure as hell isn't this journey
this journey is a wasteland
hell in corporeal form,
unlike me