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My windblown soul; a frayed sweater.

Ah, God only knows where I’ll be come New Year’s ever!?

The earth beneath me groans with wrinkled skin,

Lord! Let Your wandering path be marked by stars again.

Sun-scorched hat I lift to the breeze,

A purposeless road takes me through this life with ease.

Miles have gathered in my worn-out shoes,

And the weight of stones drags me, slows my moves.

In my pocket, a crumpled piece of paper lies,

On it, faded lines of graphite sigh.

Timeless questions written on the pages of the great book,

A dream glimmers over this ruined body like a canopy nook.

An imagined life, a chain never cast aside,

Like a sickly, clinging, corrupt romance that bides.

For here, where there’s no song, no music, no dance,

My rhythmless life is but a pitiful assonance.

My heart spread wide; an old Rottweiler.

Ah, God only knows where I’ll be come New Year’s ever!?

The high heavens pour down with a grumpy mood,

Lord! If I had a goal — you see my soul; I’d run if I could…