Broken in my spirit, I humbly do an inventory.
I look at my actions to see if they are of right spirit. 
In the spirit of the moment, I'm whisked away from fear.

In the end I'm transformed without no one knowing wiser.
The psychical world has been on tract yet lacking in substance.
A moment in time, for me, has become years of expectation.

A longing I can't even describe on any level ever.
Not to mention the fact that everything seems a little off.
All that puts me on edge a little, feeling like expectations.

It's the only word that comes to mind as I make goals that count.
As I stand up for the next right thing, I find strength from some where.
Then it's easy to move forward, even if it's at a snails pace.