Wellspring
See how my life has slowly begun to trickledown the granite slab of flawed humanity
in hope of finding an even plane on which
to lay my weary heart.
What do I do when love has become a sickle
with which it cuts my soul away and insanity
is put in place of logic and my eyes twitch
as if someone has thrown a dart?
Compassion and conscience are lost in a void
where light has no power and peace is null
and chances of return begin to fade away
in a wellspring of doubt.
Can there be a way for me to try and avoid
an existence that is woefully lost and full
of a sense of dread and despair that may
result in a primal shout?
Bring back the days where I can look forward to sunlight.
B Heath Harris/(c) 2009
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