MISERY REVISITED

Folder: 
JOURNAL #12

I sat in a soothing, early morning rain

to quietly court my troubled thoughts

where has the initial purity of challenge gone

well

not many clues have I

perhaps

life drown somewhere down river mid stream

and its most untimely death

haunted this poor, disturbed muse

into disbelieving all

like that in a young child's nightmarish dream

everything is as it should not seem

the warm, understanding breath of the ever

perpetuating prayer

possesses very little sweetness in my long since

dried mind's eye

as the 'thought to be' beauty is wasted on

the way........

towards........

the damning attempt

this not to be so very true is for what I

constantly pray

truth and her rival variety violently collide

in my head

splattering much too much excess upon my falsely

dulled senses

pain can be such a tedious yet distantly close

feeling

but I become all the more intoxicated by its

overly sobering essence...............

(Nov. 7, 1994 pm)

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