Lost

On the periphery of my own life,

This thinking has put me,

In the world but not of it,

Limbo, purgatory.

 

I used to have contempt,

For “unthinking swine”,

Now, I suspect they have held,

And dismissed, this thinking of mine,

As too fruitless and dark a path,

And I am left to envy.

 

I thought,

I was approaching enlightenment,

But I am a moth to a lightbulb,

Thinking it the moon,

Though my wings burn, I beat on,

For what else is to be done?

 

I opened Enlightenment’s box but a sliver,

Its light has left me blind forever.

I am a tide pulled,

Between the moon and earth’s core,

Restlessly confned,

Never to come ashore.

 

And my words,

O my words,

Fail me,

Leaving a confusion of wordless dust,

Where once was silent love.

 

I left all to understand,

The universe’s farthest reaches,

But the universe is cold and empty,

Unending rather than endless.

 

I saw myself as an insignificant speck,

And instantly became one,

Not awed by eternity’s majesty,

But lost and alone in its dusty halls,

Both life and death stretched,

In its infinite mirrors at either end.

 

Fine words but really,

What I mean is,

I am lost and don’t know,

How to get home,

Afraid that it may not even be,

There if I did.

 

I am lost,

I am lost,

I am lost,

If only you’d told me,

That there is no god,

That all is simply what it is,

That love is the string,

That guides us through the labrynth,

And never to let it go.

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