Mystic flux

i lost a friend today, a symbolic gesture but painful all the same. the shit show continues and seems to have no end, a fact that i'm sure isd more evident to others than to me. the questiuon now is what to do, how to make it right, to find the path that seemed so bright is the way through rhymes so trite? stupid thoughts fill my mind about where and when and why about feeling alone and misunderstood how clear can i be? but i'm blind to what others see i know that it's long past time to be free to move on and up and succeed but this sense of duty won't leave me alone i've stayed again and again till the there was nothing but a shell till something collapsed and rose up to flight and again drawn back for the umpteenth time because of who i am why can't she understand i can see the point that's made, there's no room for us in amidst all of this doubt, rambling of promises and cycles unbroken what was the date that i last acknowledged my inscesant lip serv

no way today for things to say the fog too thick to do my blog the grey matter it seems is scattered but try i must or brain may die and then my best will be like all the rest

i am here, take my hand i will lead you through your bad land but all is dark and i'm afraid the path is gone that i had laid there are many ways to best the obstacles you face but if i stumble, if i fall if i come to an impassable wall now is the time to make your stand all you have to do is take my hand

big people in a big world passing their days oblivious in the sky below, the rest of us toil, meek and humble building and searching, making what we can for shelter stowing what we can for food some day will i be the one to fall under foot? some day will the sun come out and elevate my existence? or will i toil for all my days in the shadow of pitiful giants?

the lion circling her pray is she afraid to fail does she think of her cubs what higher function brings us fear what purpose served by ideas overwhelming is there some higher order some twisted soul who watches down amused by trivial life turmoils the clock that's ticking is not my own the gentle snores and incessant clicks remind me that i can't escape a lie of course but today i am not lion.