WolfSong• Show poetry

So, where do you go from here?  Lost myself so that there is no where left to go; stranded by myself, alone in the middle of nowhere.  I am lost within my mind, I cling to the sides of my soul, fearing to let go.  To fall into the foggy mists below, into a truth I’m scared to visit.  But what does this all mean?  

This internal rage, the internal sadness, but it all stems down to happiness.  Because all must be good in the end, all is good, all will be good, just look at it the right way.  So they say, what will people think? The answer is null, does it matter what other people think.  They and their lost souls, which burn in the spirit realm, already in a torture from their leader, spawned of evil.  

So what Brings happiness?  Is it her or the thing that’s been touched by god, the soul?  Something which I search for, longingly.  Yet the path is long and narrow, how hard it is to stray from the path from which I walk.  To weave between them matters not, it is the same.  So why do I sit and type on a computer, this inanimate object which can neither care for my feelings nor understand them?  

So what do I truly search for?  I search for friends, because it is so hard to find them.  You can stay with a group and become them.  But if you become of two groups they both disown you.  So what can I do?  I do not want to be owned by a “group”.  So I do not have a group of friends, I am a loner in a way; I travel from group to group till they decide to disown me, just like the others.  Then the people I was with before say to me, “Why don’t you do anything?”.  I have no reason why.  It’s because I am not invited, because I don’t belong.  So I search for a place to belong.

I search for love.  Without my friends, I search for love. Because I do not find it easily.  I search for it desperately; I search for it longingly, so why can I not find it?  Because I can not find a people who accept me, for being who I am.  Yet those who let me be who I am harass me for being fake.

So I search for god, in this world.  A god of love and friendship which incases the other things I am looking for.  My god is a god of beauty and of music.  So why must others make fun of those things which my god is made of? I love Beauty and I love music, yet there are those who choose to molest those things, but for what purpose?  

I see God in people, and I love those people.  Within the Garden Flower I find these things I search for.  That is why I like her.