I know who I know,
but thy mind not know itself,
a violet in a field of millions knows better.
a burnt oak amongst miles of earth,
thirsty, no fruit to bear.
words cower in fear from lips that wish to speak,
blanketed by the ambiance of uncertainty.
this thick fog is pointless and empty.
to slice through it seems impossible,
Balance and peace,
but only if there's something there.