A storm looms on the distant horizon

Life goes forward no matter the reason.

~

Days like this create a slow odd reaction.

Some faint hope belittles our need for action,

~

Looms in the simple mind of a wanderer,

In hopes the travel will dissuade the bother;

~

Leaving allowance for error and human – kind

When the reality of identity comes to mind.

~

Step inside our world. A semantic sweet soul

Knowing, acting, believing, feeling almost whole

~

Lives in a fluid panic, nearly a constant fear

Wondering if anywhere falls a peaceful tear

~

Each day waking to the constant progression,

Knowing might only their lives survive this session.

~

We believe the true nature of our internal demons

Will merit only pain, we ask to discard the sermons,

~

We venture forth, alone and disrobed of our dignity

Reeling in social angst, trudging the burden of self-pity,

~

If only once, the earth suddenly shifted gears in time

The poignant currents of love, then surely speak sublime.