Direction

taps on my forehead
snaps in the night
shadows prance when my eyes close,
filigree strands of night sweat
beads of sanity, if that still exists
and I am left to wander
as I fall into myself ...

how can I tell you what you already know
having lost the element of surprise
misplaced the angle of anticipation,
so I fumble these words
look how they splatter and scatter
in every imaginable direction
except where I thought I intended
debatable,
questionable ...

these corridors are dim and they've changed all the signposts
yet I'll manage to find the exit
stumbling around like a drunk without drink
laughter rings out trailing behind, mockingly
they think I can't see
oppression, that spirit tries to press down and kill
blowing around this candle I've managed to restrain
careful as not to lose my way ...

comfort and caring have two different meanings
merging at times with each other
perception is key,
I remember what I came here to do
the harvest awaits and I must tend to my garden
quickly, before the last gate
fades from view,
and finds me lost in this world without regard
bracing for my eventual demise ...