What Awaits

I cannot express

My burning words

Living in the depths of my heart

Eating at my fingertips.

My tongue is curled on itself

Choking for the words

I cannot speak.

I yearn to see

To show who I am

Whatever that means.

Is this yearning nothing more

Than the musings of a sloth

Asphyxiated by his chair

Too idle to move

Too weary to breathe.

The thought of hours spent

In the rat's wheel

Living to survive

Surviving to live,

I am repulsed and disgusted

As I think of a life

With lips sewn shut

Heart bolted down

Eyes blinded to a world

Full of beauty and love.

How can this be

All I am meant to be?

Am I losing my life

To gain the world?

Or is this world losing me

And gaining another cog

In its great war machine?

Who can know

Who can say

What I am to do.

But this fire in my heart

It cannot, will not be quelled.

I have tried without win

To move on from my drive

To do what I love

To tell myself

Through words.

It astounds me

As I recall

A childhood so full of promise

So full of friends,

Only so few years

Since then

Now the promise of words alone

Calls such dread

And yet such passionate desire.

A child speaking endlessly

Now years only to be heard.

What am I to make

Of this future to which I am driven?

Truly it seems

I am a passenger

In the life of my heart

Viewing the scenes

Of its scenic route

Through this museum of God.

What awaits me tomorrow?