Unending thoughts, 4/5


I am a dangerous thing, weak and wounded.
Reeling and drunken with grief
And woe to those who cross my path
Woe to the one that offers a hand of support
Who can support this weight?
Who can pull me up from despair,
And not themselves be consumed?
Fools, Run Away!
A house is falling.
A dream has slipped into waking.
Go, before you are eternally stained.
Nothing can quench my grief.
I become insolent and hateful.
I mock those who try.
I despise the love of others,
Thier attention and affection.
All is desolate in my eyes.
Nothing has value.

Strong and lithe, cold I lie
Trying to think of the things I was supposed to do.
Trying to think of the places I was to be.
I do SOMETHING
Like I always do.
I finesse with a hammer,
And tune with a scream.
No, it is not done right,
But it is done.
Immobile is an option I have never taken.
I will run into trouble.
I will not wait for it to seek me out.
I must seek the counsel of the wise.
I must be wide open.
I must heed the spirit, listen for the sounds
of angels footsteps.
I must not go down in the battle.
I may die, but I must stand strong.
I am not sure why.
But, from my birth, to my end,
I must. I must...