It feels like its late in coming
I turn right, thinking I’ve caught you by my eye’s side
I find light, sinking through from cracks, ruins
I find no one else but myself, standing in dust
In desert inspiration, covered by all and none
Confused with all the pictures of a single life
Many, varied, pretty, false
In fatalistic turn I forget about hope and seek solace in despair
Then in the wanton blur of drunken sarcasm and narcissism
I am right, and its so against the world
But still, I feel voided; I feel void

The space of grass blades, the land and sky clashing
The dutiful war upon soil of marching rain
The awed explosions of ecstatic love for beautiful red sunsets
In moments all the more rare, they make me want to live
To be free from solitary cage
From miserable island miserly and unsmiling
From dead ends and frantic searches for escape routes
Here, dying is living, but where is the right and wrong juxtaposition?
I wish, dearly crave for life
For the smiles and laughter and hugs and kisses
For the shared tears and seared comforters
For the orchards and flower fields scenting up to our atmosphere
For a world as I have barely ever had it
The life is rising as sounds to fill thirsting ears
Starved of truth, joy, peace and contentment
After the storm of empty materialism has raged and ravaged
I am dying to live, in the midst of living traffic
Perhaps mostly dead too, yet being walking, thriving corpse
Nothing gives me the fiery fuel for finding essence here
Except the discovery of wasteland that stays following rampaging materialism
Everyman left open and dull in the end
Finished by lies of destructive promise

So I’m dying to live, fighting to die fulfilled
The world is not enough, so I give in to another instead
The Divine is my hope for meaning
God is my light, my life, my salvation
One without whom life lived is just death in procession.