there you go,
sweeping over the unknown
and envisioning yourself
in the promised land.

you have not chosen this,
you did not build these walls,
or maybe you did.

as the lead spirals
you count your blessings
you pray it's over soon
and you don't even believe in God.

maybe your journey
doesn't end at the pier.
they found a boy dead off the coast,
so close,
right off that pier.
his family stopped looking.

but you have something,
a delusion and a lengthy curse,
a vision you should not possess
and it's dying with your growing rationality.

don't you wish you were like
everybody else?

you don't hear the waves anymore.
you're a mile from the shore
but it's too loud now.
it feels like a desert,
and you're dying of thirst.