THAT FEELING

The world beckons fiercely, clingingly and enrapturing my senses
But what do I really want, need…
Not this greed
Not sloth, or the sluggish lethargy of a mind go weak,
Neither the vile passions
Nor all the lust and wealth of this world.

I only want to see the world, as it should be
Clean pure and free of the colors we paint it in
Colors of the treachery of our souls
Colors so bright and enticing that they seem real
And steal all our reason,

I know this is but a season.
The season of my depravement,
The season of my temporary insanity
But look what it has left
A void
A human shell

From somewhere deep that pain doth swell again and again
“When will this purgatory end?”
Cries it again and again
.”Will there be no end?”
Am I destined to be that lone leaf flying, buffeted and tossed about in the wind
Or will I find final destination.
Rest my head and get eternal peace

The peace, which is freedom in itself –a welcome release
Yet no release
Because it never was a bondage
A feeling above else, yet no feeling at all.
Undefined, yet very sure
Secure and always there just within reach, yet far