The sea lashes out in anger
Beating against the shore
Nothing stands in the face of the ocean’s wrath

I would rather write
About this world than
Live in it

I would rather play
Music all day and read
Or wander around

Or waltz into bookstores
And run my hands along
The wooden shelves

I would rather remain
Indifferent to the world
That exists around me

I would rather watch
Humans than actually
Be one of them.

A labyrinth expands before me,
Its only prize, the truth; reality
Awaits the shrewd of mind.
At every turn lie misdirections,
One wrong choice and I am
Lost, for perils lie ahead;
Webs of lies lie waiting for their prey.
I pray for wisdom that I may not fall,
Misguided by a ghost I thought I saw;
My own illusions turn me from the light.
The path ahead is cobbled from the shadows,
Bits of truth among them shining gold,
The only light to guide my weary feet
As Darkness beckons me with gentle hands.
Temptation offers respite from my search:
“Sit down and rest, poor ragged
traveler, you search in vain
For worthless lies. I tell the truth;
One as beautiful as I is honest, sure.”
I pay no heed. The truth is rarely beautiful or pure.

Six letters, an apostrophe,
A meager whole, I fear
And slight of meaning,
All things told,
As words for one to hear.
I’m fine.