Jan 2013
Lost Purpose
My reason for doing what I do
Is slowly escaping my very essence
My mission and my reason is fading
But clear with this message:
I am a horse that’s plowed too many fields
A bird gathering food for an empty nest
A lion that cannot hunt and feed its pack
A spider weaving broken webs
A baby that has been born old
A cold sun freezing the stars
A bright man in a forgotten room
That is who we are
Lost Faith
I believed in the holy fervor
The faith that drove me into the world
Now that faith has rejected me
Like a doll rejected by a young girl
These questions I ask leave my lips:
Who can I trust? Who will take me?
Who can see that I am One who is not whole?
I have lost purpose and now lost faith
Colorful, but still petty, like sliver and gold
Lost Sleep*
Pondering this reality has taken its toll
My eyes grow weary with each breath I take
I exhaust my resource of natural light
All I ask for is a gift; all I ask is a break
With this, I choose no path
That could guide me to find my lost treasures
But that path is right here:
I see it with irises, losing their color
I wait for my exhaustion to overwhelm me and *sigh
I wish to close my eyes and fall into slumber with an end
But my eyes stay awake, waving dreams and hopes goodbye
My reason for doing what I do
Is slowly escaping my very essence
My mission and my reason is fading
But clear with this message:
I am a horse that’s plowed too many fields
A bird gathering food for an empty nest
A lion that cannot hunt and feed its pack
A spider weaving broken webs
A baby that has been born old
A cold sun freezing the stars
A bright man in a forgotten room
That is who we are
Lost Faith
I believed in the holy fervor
The faith that drove me into the world
Now that faith has rejected me
Like a doll rejected by a young girl
These questions I ask leave my lips:
Who can I trust? Who will take me?
Who can see that I am One who is not whole?
I have lost purpose and now lost faith
Colorful, but still petty, like sliver and gold
Lost Sleep*
Pondering this reality has taken its toll
My eyes grow weary with each breath I take
I exhaust my resource of natural light
All I ask for is a gift; all I ask is a break
With this, I choose no path
That could guide me to find my lost treasures
But that path is right here:
I see it with irises, losing their color
I wait for my exhaustion to overwhelm me and *sigh
I wish to close my eyes and fall into slumber with an end
But my eyes stay awake, waving dreams and hopes goodbye
A three-part poem, you never know what you truely have until you lose it
(New Jersey)
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