Beggared of my faith,
a Wanderer I have become.
lost, in a way,
the attitude of my mind is one
uncommitted and floating
in a mixed atmosphere
of Obscurity and Novocaine.
This bewilderment of feeling,
this feebleness of purpose
was authored by the contrariety
of our opinions; At home, I bathe myself
in a tincture of Depreciation.
It leaves a slime-like film
of bitterness and cynicism on my skin.
of our opinions; At home, I bathe myself
in a tincture of Depreciation.
It leaves a slime-like film
of bitterness and cynicism on my skin.
Onstage, in the pageant of life,
I dance a Harlequinade
dressed simply in the fabric of Fact -
the sole garb of my thoughts.
the others, the mists of criticism washes over
while the glare of scrutiny wrings
from their words their truest meaning.
A fragment of conversation jumps
to frame itself in my mind:
“a drop of Comfort is enough
to despoil an ocean of misery.
the light of Love, in a field
overspread, is enough to wither
an entire crop of disappointments.”
A beam of Moonlight illuminates a smile,
- the dawning of Recognition.
an electric current of thought
increases my faculties of Perception
and i begin to look around
sagaciously, as the hue of Divinity
everywhere I see,
with newly Azured eyes.
with newly Azured eyes.
