Of Thoughts And Things

I often linger where I am prone to remorse

A grayish miasma envelops my being

As to convince me of no light outside

This complacent and nonliving moment…

I regress more and the steps down are too easy

I think of such things as the sighs thicken

With each labored breath

So gone is the strong source… or my mind

deceives me too much to believe in weakness

And I tend to rend myself helpless, defeated

From the roughness of living

All sides of everywhere seem a blurred thing to grasp

Where have I confused the path toward the goodness

Toward some shade of peace?

Can I wait for the sigh of lightness and relief to come

I need to cling to the tips of the threads with tremblings

Of the last bit of faith and reach

reach more and perhaps I will fall

Out of my thoughts and things