This is the angst
  the self-afflicted addiction
  the obsession
  the oppression
  the desperation
  the cul-de-sac

   the load on the back
  heavier each day
that won't go away
  

    the heartache
  the pain
  the desolation
  ( no hope of consolation)
   the conundrum

  the doom and gloom
  the nightmare
  the dark closed room
  of the mind
  with no door
  to escape
  from
  
  vox clamantis in deserto
  (your voice no one would heed
   only the desert wind and sand
   would hear your cry
  as you linger under
  the mocking sky)    
  
  terra incognita
  the mirage
  the struggle
  (never know
   where to go)
  
   the lacuna
  the grey area
  the questioning
  the doubt
  the slow perishing
  of self
  the absence
  of enlightening
  

   the tortuous path
  that must
  be trodden
   as long
  as  life subsists
  all alone

  but when
  would be the end
  of the sojourn?
  as this is no man's land

  why the seeking
  to know?
  what to know?
  how to know?
  what's the compelling need
  to know?

   question after question
   knocked back in mockery
   the perennial rude reply:
  'No, no, no!'.

   another voice
  descends from nowhere:
  ' Why can't you allow
    things to be so?

    look at the flowers
    in the field
    nothing do they know
    yet in such glory
      and splendour they blow'.