The angst within my soul is burring deep,
I’m not complete.

Our sordid searching just brings us further down.

Where’s the joy
I’ve sought but haven’t found?

I’ve searched upon this plane,
yet passions they will not wane.
They remain,
they hunt and haunt me.

Empty echoes, shallow graves, and traces of what should be. This world is mists and shadows. An illusion, a dream, a desire; yet broken. There seems to be no substance. Faded sketches. Only traces left. The remnants of what may have been.

O’ for my soul to soak in and ingest my longing. For what I ache for to be realized.

Do you feel the angst? Do you see the hypocrisy in all our running? Do you live but know the lie? Can you see past the thin veneer? Do you face the façade?

We live in a land of dreams that is already and always broken and unreal. We live in the time in between. We live in the real that’s broken.

And yet…