Pieces of the past.

I was going though an old box the other day and came acoss some old journels.  I used to write a lot, but somewhere along the line lost the habit of it.  Anyway, I thought I'd share something from then.  Because I've been in that same place these past few months.  Unfortunatly, this one is undated but it's either from 01 or 02.

Where Do I go From Here

Shifting, splaying, turning, swaying...

I fall down to my knees and I'm praying,

for answers to questions 

I've yet to find.

Praying for a reason behind the rhyme,

and the time_marches on with a

steadfast certianty all it's own.

An unstoppable, unconquerable force,

secure in it's own superiority.

And so my world is swiftly changing

in all to many ways that defy my understanding.

All of my energy has been straining,

dripping, pooling around my feet, on the floor.

Need to focus, clear my head

somehow move ahead but my sense of

direction_ well, I_ didn't notice, it seems

to have lost itself somewhere

or maybe it's just dead.

This lack of motivation, I hate

and my inspiration, I'm waiting.

So where is it fate, you're taking me,

in this world become all to fake.

To much more will I break.

It's time to make, it's time to take

a rest for my world weary mind.