Self . . .

There was never a reason;
only purpose seeks itself;
brimming with dreams;
despite the cold truth

still counting days;
without knowing when to stop;
fear always here;
events to unfold

i said to myself;
"be better";
but blinded still;
with steps tracing backwards

memory teaches;
instinct leads;
judgment was clouded;
then it rains emotion

down to earth;
back to the beginning;
still cycled;
only when time is

see what to believe;
hear only delights;
smell of comfort;
yet taste was never

listens to voices sometimes;
my own perhaps;
tears and joy;
life flashes

never again;
i swore;
yet again;
i did

lost the little child;
amongst the woods;
choir of glory;
sang to please

proud i am;
of what i am;
of whom becoming;
wonders

afraid i am;
of what i am;
of whom becoming;
wonders