I'm so tired of the search

I wish some days I would just stand still like a solid birch

I hate trying to find joy in worthlessness

I keep looking around what stands right in front of me

I'm always searching in all the wrong places

Today I'm going to search for my peace, joy and rest, not in trivial things

Not in the sand

But in the ocean of wonder

People like you die young, she said
You don't drink, don't
do drugs, eat healthy, rarely
go out, rarely meet new girls

But you keep on writing, boy, you
keep on writing
and that's enough to outweigh
all the above

You'll see

A form emerges from the darkness
Raising its head and opening eyes
To perceive the lighted world
In which it is a necessary manifestation.
The form desires expression
And so composes a few verses
Describing the lighted world  -
Before dissolving back into
The darkness.
Though while the form was
Briefly perceiving and composing
It referred to itself as
"Immortal Poet."





- fr