Pain,

Anguish,

Endless torment.

Searing thought of what once was.

The mind is rent with memories.

Joy once known is sorrow.

Those which I knew now are lost.

In where others now go,

I go not.

In that which they see,

I see nothing.

Some see evil where it is not.

Where the paths of my quest wander,

men find nothing and no one follows.

At times my path crosses another,

and for a time we walk together.

And always they part again.

Perhaps to cross again.

And I will always walk my path,

to go forward always 'cause none can go back,

and all I pass is gone,

and all there is lays before me.

There is only now and that which is to come,

someday I will be there.

The land is rich,

with many valleys hidden,

and mountain peaks forlorn.

There are plains of green grasses,

and lakes deep with water blue.

The paths I walk go to these.

Tho in this short time of life,

I cannot see all of the lands there be.

To walk all the paths,

and climb the hills so many.

Up on the peaks forlorn,

( thoughthey stand with others,

they are so far apart,

and each so different,

to truly be forlorn.)

I have climbed,

that there more land will lay at my feet,

land wide and going on so far,

in them are many things I see not from so high,

I know tho.

That upon the land I see,

winding between trees and across streams,

are the paths I walk.

As I try this land to know.

On some paths many go along,

and these are worn wide,

going with the easy path,

knowing no hardships,

and those on these see little,

learning not to be hard with hardship,

thus knowing not to be easy with the gentle.

And some paths,

light and narrow,

hard for the careless eye to see,

followed by a few are well kept by the land,

wander freely across the land.

starting somewhere lost,

going where the free go.

Some are easy to walk,

some are with rocks and fallen tree.

And too many hard to walk,

yet some walk there,

and so the path is.

Some are good and others bad.

And many are both and neither still.

Some on which rock and fallen tree are,

where to go along is slow and hard,

are good.

Some which are smooth and straight,

going quick to the end,

are bad.

And either can be the other.

And of some no one can say.

Of them many I have walked.

And of many more I know that I have not.

Some of them I know well,

many more things I want to learn,

on the ones I know.

I walk often,

and with each time along one I walk,

somewhere along it there is something,

something I've passed by before,

I will see and it will then be with me,

in my mind to know forever,

and in that I will be richer,

{though not in gold,

richer still.}

Some perhaps I will walk but once,

and to see some of where they go,

once to find that which on them lay.

And although how hard I try,

{and the effort of a man can be great}

there is some I will never see or know,

they go to where I will never be,

they show much which is good,

they would lead to a better me.

And knowing this,

I will walk the paths,

that this short time of life will let me see.

And I will walks the paths,

as long as I will be.

I am alone and free.

Standing thoughin the crushing sea of man.

Still I am alone and free of all.

I go where my dreams will carry me.

Going where I and not men will go.

Where I am alone and free.

I see the world with my eyes.

In colors not for all to see.

Seeing them I am alone and free.

I am free of man.

The paths I walk are of the free.

Paths that go though the land of man.

I soar on the breath of my inspiration.

Breath that is my very life.

Life I have free of man.

I fallow a star,

following not the brightest,

or the one that never moves.

A star I know to be free of man,

I am alone and free,

I am free of man,

I fallow my star,

I am.

Love's black wings fill my sky.

Darkening the sun that was my life.

Leaving the valley of my heart without light.

And in the darkness all seems ill.

Of love my mind sees only pain,

the anguish and endless torment.

And each time the pain seem greater.

Altho before I felt no pain could be more.

And now I fear to bear more.

Now I run from the change of love to be.

I fear love more than a knife that will pierce my heart,

and end the life that lingers there.

And although I know not love,

neither do I now fear of it ending.

And the suffering I will be therein.

Pain that would cut to the very soul of that which Iam.

Yet still love will come.

And I know it to will come with pain.

I live in the fear of this,

blackness dwells in my heart.

Time was passing slowly.

And with time the seasons went by too.

In the season when cold turns to warmth.

When all that seems dead,

shows to what eyes that may be watching,

that life is still within them.

On a tree not unlike many others.

One leaf begining but as a small bud,

the bud yet the same as all the other upon this tree,

the same to all except unto its self,

begins to grow with the water from rain,

rain comming from the Lords sky,

falling upon the land our Lord made,

land rich in all the trees needs to grow.

And with the growing of the tree,

the leaves that are no more buds,

leaves that grow in the passing time.

And the seasons pass too with the time.

Time passes.

Seasons going with time.

One always with the other.

The season of warm is now on the wane.

Warm in which much life anew has grown.

Warm which came driving out the cold.

Warmth charnging the land from white to green.

which came as all good from the Lord.

And with the warmth end,

which although good must end or would become ill.

Ill in that all would grow in the warnth,

the weak with the strong.

The two growing together to become one with time,

and the one being weaker that the strong alone.

And in being weak then sickness came to the land,

{sickness that comes alway in time}

all would die leaving none living when it left.

None living to grow again.

In this the end of the warmth is good.

Fore now the cold is begining to come again.

And by the cold the weak die.

And the strong live thoughthey look dead.

And when warmth comes again,

the strong will be where to live.

In the passing of time.

The seasons come to change to another.

Warmth comes to the cold.

And in the changing the leaves in the trees change too.

From the green of the warmth,

to the gold of the cold.

And now arrayed in gold of the charnging,

falls from the tree in to the wind.

The wind that carries all leaves that are free from the tree.

Carring them with many others.

And thoughthere are many there are no two alike to the other.

And in carried by the wind.

And giving by it a beauty before not known.

They go dancing in swirling ever changing patterns.

Till as the wing dies in slow death.

And in its dying leaving the leaves upon the ground.

Ti lay there with some alone and some together.

Knowing no design.

And yet for this leaf to land with another.

Time passes.

And the two leaves are together upon the ground.

They came to be here carried on the wind.

And only the wind and the Lord know why.

And in their being together is good,

Tho being apart would not be bad.

And together the Lords wind carried them.

And for a time in being together they were.

And time passed as they were together.

Together with the season and each other they changed.

And in the changing one went upon the wind,

one kept to the soil.

And in this together they were not,

now alone they each be.

The leaf now changed.

The coat of gold is now brown.

The soft and sweet life now is done.

Time passes,

seasons pass also.

All is changing,

all is new.

Slowly in the dark street I walk.

My footfalls echo with emptiness.

Black shadows lay across my path.

Closed windows like eyes see nothing.

This way I walked has found its end.

Now into a square I've come.

Across its vacancy many ways doth go.

To be walked together hand in hand.

My path across goes to nowhere.

I just walk there by myself.

I walk tonight no place to go.

Wandering I know not where.

I have no aim my dreams are gone.

The star I fallowed has plunged down.

Once it was the brightest star.

Once then my dreams knew no bounds.

Then I walked and knew the way.

Each moment has like a day.

Now shes gone I know not why.

Now alone I can only cry.

I wish the tears could wash away,

the dark gloom that hides the day.

Hides the noon that we met.

Hides the joy and love we had.

Hides the memory of how it was.

Now she gone I know not why.

Together they will go.

Together on a trip be.

Together they will be as one.

Together no one can be alone.

And if it were to be,

I there could be.

I could be one of them.

I could go there with them.

I could not there be alone.

And there will be joy.

Together they will go.And with them no one will be alone.

There I could not be alone.

If only it were to be.

I stand apart from you.

And do not come to be your friend.

My actions are not like yours.

Things I do seem strange to you.

And you cannot understand me.

Because I do not understand you.

In youth I knew no close friends.

And knew only myself.

I turned to within myself.

'cause there was no one else to turn to.

And by my living within myself,

knowing no ones thoughts other than mine,

knowing just what I have lived,

I don't know what will please you.

I don't know what to say,

or how to act,

or what I may do,

or that which I cannot.

So I stand alone.

I can't act the same.

Too long I've lived within myself.

Too long I've lived alone.

Beauty I have known from afar,

close to me,

it rarely is,

I've lived almost without it.

Knowing only the day to day of life,

not daring to think of finding beauty,

after living so long without beauty,

I don't know how to talk to you.

Knowing so little beauty,

and finding myself in awe when with you,

words seem so little and useless,

when to be used to say of you.

I a mere man cannot talk with you,

and I could not be anything for you to see,

for I am not of beauty,

I feel I am not to know beauty as yours.

I come not to you,

and still live alone without beauty.

What do you do for a broken heart,

how do you stop the bleeding,

will a band-aid do to close the tear,

the tear left when love was tore from it,

can a doctor sew it together again,

is there some first-aid to give,

how do you fix a broken heart,

I wish,

I wish I knew.

I walk a path,

a path not for men,

thoughI be one.

Alone I am in this,

and yet men are not to be alone,

though on this path I find no man.

It is a path of three worlds,

one that we wish to be,

one that is,

one that few men see.

Most men look ahead,

some look to now,

some look back at that was.

On this path,

I walk ahead,

for I know what lay behind.

I wander on,

for I can know no rest,

nor live in what was.

I walk not with men,

and the Gods are not with me now,

I walk this path alone.

I walk not knowing to where,

nor truly why,

nor of want to stop.

I walk my path.

Am I to wander ever alone.

Will I not know of rest.

Peace to forever be gone before me.

Knowing seemingly only sorrow.

And will pain forever fill me.

Must I always look to greener lands.

Will I never find a place that holds me.

Can I never know an endless love.

Am I always to be as I am.

The land lies in waiting,

and although it is dry,

there is water near by.

Riches are in the soil,

held there by the parchness,

parch with water a few feet away.

In a canal going to other lands,

some of the lands are poor,

and some are rich,

all need the water,

to the rich it goes,

passing this dry land by,

leaving the riches locked,

to free them in other lands.

Yet for waters not used,

there would be riches more,

someday a canal will come.

In when water here will be,

the land its riches yield,

water having freed them,

has done a great work,

so that the world is repayed,

and no land is thrown away.

The Craftsman

With the skill of many years,

his aged hands move,

movement that years have made,

fast and sure that when young,

were slow and doubtful,

and thought years of practice,

when in each day he does again,

the same moves as always before,

and the same as tomorrows,

and day by day his skills improve,

although each movement may not be better than the last,

in the passing of time,

he improves in all,

with his advancment in his skills,

his work becomes better,

and being better is worth more,

till it becomes a thing of beauty,

an article to live beyond its maker,

to become of value with age,

until it is priceless,

a thing of art forever,

to be looked upon as a ultimate,

to be known long beyond,

the death of the craftsman,

the man who made it.

Footprints in sand

Time swiftly covers our way,

washing away our footprints,

as the sea upon the beach,

clearing it that we can write anew,

the things of each new day,

and in each new day,

time covers more of our life,

more that washed from our mind,

and although we lose much,

still we gain more in its place,

some that is worth more to us,

and too some that is not,

and of all we learn,

some of it will not be of our choosing,

will become lost to us,

and in this we change,

and are not tomorrow,

as we were today,

yet of what today we learn,

in tomorrow we will become,

for we can only be,

that which we have learned,

and of which we remember.

The night's mind

In the dark of night,

the mind wander in odd ways,

sounds become unreal,

and frightening,

that in the daytime are not,

in the darkness,

seem things which are harmful,

that we know are not there,

only in light,

are we safe,

in darkness,

is the terror,

so in the night,

we go in hiding,

to hide from that,

which is only in,

the mind.

The Hat

In the world of hats,

there are many hats,

there are tall hats,

and there are short hats,

there are thin hats,

and there are fat hats,

and there are some hats,

that are flat,

and many that,

are other than that,

and one of the hats,

that are other than that,

is the socking cap,

and like other hats,

there are long caps,

and short caps,

there are narrow caps,

and there are wide caps,

and almost all types of caps,

but there is one cap,

of all the caps,

and that is the skier's cap,

a most unusal cap,

'cause to wear that cap,

wear it on the back,

the back of the head that,

off to fall looks that cap,

but does not fall that cap,

but holds to the head's back,

and will not fall that cap,

and its cling,

it does seem,

must be a impossible thing,

and that cap's cling,

is what mades the skier's cap thing,

that is why,

this cap is that,

the skier's cap,

a most unusal hat,

is that.

I would sleep,

yet sleep will not come,

and in this late hour,

when others are resting,

I cannot rest,

still my mind races,

and thoughts go within it,

there is still so much,

that I would do yet today,

but this body will not let me,

and it call's to me,

asking to sleep,

though I would not end this day,

and yet too,

I know I must sleep,

and know it will come,

yet it has not come thus far,

and still I await it,

and hope it will soon come,

for I would sleep.

I shout into darkness

I cry for what never was,

I aid that which will never be,

love is not,

life did not begin,

death is forever here,

tears fall in an ocean,

help is not felt,

sorrow forever,

suffering I go in life,

alone I am nothing,

joyless I am.

I run from this world,

to one that is not,

I climb on the broken dreams,

to reach out to the stars,

I know not of what men would do,

yet know of that which I will,

I know which way to go,

and question that knowledge,

I must always walk my way,

in a world I made,

I running from this world,

going to where I am.

Alone,

mind not touching minds,

knowing only my thoughts,

never to know anothers,

living only for now,

bitter in the shortness,

to fall back to myself,

bound forever in this shell,

living alone,

alone.

As I sit tuning the radio,

to a station I can never find,

looking up I see,

the stuffed dog from a one time dream,

laying on its back off to the side,

cast off for something more important now,

as yesterdays dreams often are,

and they now mean little if any,

life is always rushing on,

dreams becomming lost forever,

lost is why they were once,

lost too is why they are not dreams now,

dreams are often only for now,

to often they are not for tomorrow,

the tomorrow that is now today.

You ask me my name,

and I told you it,

yet I will not ask your name,

because it will not tell me of you,

it cannot say of your likes,

nor of your dislikes,

it will not tell me of your wants,

or of your needs,

of what you have done,

or that which you will do.

Your name may cause me to think of another,

whos name is the same as yours,

and I may think that you will be like her,

though it need not be so.

But in knowing not of your name,

I will think only of you.

Then I may learn of you,

thinking of no one else,

but of you.

Joy is,

a light easy feeling,

sparking deep within the eyes.

Joy is,

running in open fields,

laying in the sun.

Joy is,

free,

not tied from day to day.

Joy is,

soft,

not hardened from pain.

Joy is,

the good in life,

that comes from living.

Joy is,

a beautiful person,

walking beside me.

Life is to live,

being free.

To listen to birds sing,

walking in parks,

chasing butterflies.

Life is to be happy,

doing good,

helping others.

To sing songs in darkness,

working in the sun.

Life is to walk together,

no one being alone,

because there is no one to be with.

To fall in love.

Life is for living.

They're friends in passing,

passing each other by,

looking and not seeing,

touching and not feeling.

They sit in a room,

together and yet alone,

within inches and miles apart.

Thinking the same thoughts,

that they have nothing in common.

They need only to talk,

and to listen to one and other.

They need a place to be together,

a place to laugh and be close.

A place that can be anywhere,

maybe even here.

The street is dark,

and you wonder why,

the way is curved,

first to one side,

when back to the other,

yet all others seemed unswerving,

and you don't understand,

sometimes you think you see the way,

and run with feet of joy,

out pacing the memory,

memory of running before,

of going without fear,

and when of the endless walk,

that lay there at your goal,

although the goal was not where,

and memory has again caught you,

memories that seemingly try to stop you,

to pull you down,

yet back along the way,

you know there is nothing,

nothing that can hold you there,

nothing you could forever look upon,

and tho,

now and again you may stop,

you must as of yet go on,

on to find your place to be.

May I be with you tonight,

may I look in your eyes,

and see you smile,

may I be silent,

and seem far way,

for tonight I am,

I am running in fields,

where yellow flowers grow,

chasing after butterflies,

and flying on the wind,

tonight I look up,

to see the stars,

and to see the clouds,

running before the moon,

Tonight I'll feel the wind,

that goes through my hair,

and rustles trees,

that grow afar,

tonight is for magic,

and elves to sing,

tonight I would be with you,

and have you with me.

As we walk up the hill

the last of the day's once firm hold

weakens on the world

till as we reach the top

it falls away

and night slowly begins to fold about us

and as the towns and cities below us fade

overhead in the sky

which was a dome of blue

blue that left with the sun

slowly coming at first one by one

when by two and two and then by threes

till coming faster that the mind can count

the stars awaken to await the moon

who at its coming will rule the night sky

and now we turn about

to look down upon the towns and cities below

that now seem to mirror the sky

or perhaps to be another sky

we turn to look into the others eyes

eyes that are filled with the pure light of love

and with the hill as our alter

and with the stars and moon to watch

we tell the other of our love

swearing to it forever

swearing to seal our lifes together

and to make our dreams and hopes one

we kneel hand in hand

and pray to God that we may come to his house

and there for him to seal our love forever

so that our love will never die.

Despair

Slowly the black waves roll in

No gulls wheel overhead

Nor are their cries ever heard here

No wind blows the air about

To cool the sand baked hot by the sun

And the sun stands forever overhead

No shadow is there here to hide in

No water comes here running

From mountains afar and capped in white

The cool white of snow giving birth to waters cold

and the sea is poisoned with body now dead

But dead as all who comes to here and cannot escape

Here where nothing lives or can live

And here lost forever with no escape

I am

I go by Bill

My given name is William

And some call me still others

Yet none of these

Nor any other is mine

For no man knows my name

And I myself do not know

For it is known only to God

And my friends who linger there with him

For in this world no one is born with his name

And no one of this world can tell him it

Yet someday I will go to God

And I will ask him of my name

And if

If he tells me

Then still I can tell it to no one

But only whisper it to myself

But then I will know who I am

For now I do not

Once that feels so very long ago

in a place ever so far away

a young man worked on his dreams

he dreamed of becoming a great man

a man who would do many wonderful deeds

dreams of helping his fellow man

to make a better world and life

but this young man did not know the price of these

he didn't know of the work

of or the time spent in study

of day after day struggle to learn

and the hours of being alone

and in this testing of himself

he failed

yet he knew he was failing

and knew that then in his life

he could not do that which was needed

so he left there to go and prepare to return

as he knew that someday he must

for his dreams would not die till he did

and now he is much older

though still a young man

and now he is wiser through pain of long years

long years in which his dreams aged

and with age gained depth and meaning

now his dreams mean much more than then

now for his dreams he will give much more

now he knows a man's dreams are his life

and he knows to live without his dreams

is to live a life worth nothing to him

it is to live thinking always of what might have been

to live in a world that no longer is

and less and less in the world that is

now he knows he must have his dreams again

now he is begging you to let him try again

The Lord speaks to me with words sweet and clear

to tell me of truth, of love and doing right

he shows to me the paths that I should walk

and is always with me when everyone else is gone

his light before me is always shining

to lead me from black despair

he teachs of his ways and of his kingdom

he helps and guides me to find my way there

Last night I found that which I have been looking for

The pain that lived with me for so long was gone

Joy came and filled my life washing out the sorrow

Leaving my soul in beauty and deep love

All that I could ever want was now mine

And the happieness which was so long missing from me

Returned to me with greatness never before known

And then in my great joy I rested

And slept

And when I awoke it was gone

And in dark despair I knew where it had gone

It went back within my mind where it lives

For it was just a dream

I wish sleep and my dream would come again

And then never, never leave me again

No music is in the air today

Tho many birds do sing

And though within this crowded room

My ears with silence ring

And lonelyness is deep within my heart

For you are not here to talk to me

"Repent ye, repent ye".

Words come softly on the wind to me.

"Repent ye, repent ye".

Hearding these words I lift up my head.

"Repent ye, repent for the day of the Lord".

Words coming from far away on the wind.

"Repent for the day of the Lord is at hand".

A voice calling to the world.

"Repent for ye cannot be saved in sin".

A young voice of someone far from home.

A voice with joy in it, and a little fear.

"Repent ye, repent ye. For the day of the Lord God is at hand

and ye cannot be saved in sin".

"Repent ye, repent ye".

Words called upon the wind.

Words on the wind going to all lands.

"Repent ye, repent for the day of the Lord".

And hearding these words I know them to be true.

And I rise and go to find who speaks them.

For surely that one knows the truth.

Slowly the yellow ball sinks

Falling out from the pale blue

With its wide halo of white

Touching first the darker blue

Causing the bright golden mist

Tinting the white and yellow

The blues around the golden yellow

Slowly all darken with richness

White turning to yellow

Yellow to change to gold

Pale blue to golden blue

The ball slips between the blues

The golden blue darkens

The darker blue turns black

Till dark blue and black remains

The sun is down

See the bird,

Birds are to be free,

To fly the sky,

And sing songs of joy.

See the bird,

So much like me,

In a cage.

Somewhere sitting on grass

Seeing each blade

Counting the clover

My love is

In clouds are castles

The wind sings of love

The sky is a sapphire

The sun gold

This my love sees

Flower line our paths

Trees give us shade

Birds sing our joy

Grass is our bed

Somewhere

My love is

Slowly the ball of molten gold sinks

Falling from the high pale blue

With its halo of pure white

Touching first the darker blue below

As a mist of flaming red sandstone rises

Burning away the halo of white

Heating the gold hotter still

Its golden light climbing into the sky

Brightening the pale blue to white

And yet the touch of the golden ball

Turns the darker blue amost to a black

And continues downwards sinking into the darkness

The darkness swallows the ball

As the mist now falls back out of the sky

And the darkness swallows this too

Till only white lays between dark and pale blues

The white grows smaller until it is gone

Then the pale blue darkens

And then the high blue becomes black

And the sun is down

Light of my life,

Lord of my days,

Savior of my forever.

He who first walked this path,

He whos steps I try to fill.

In peace he lived.

With beauty he taught.

In living his words,

he asked all to live as he.

My heart sings his joyous praise.

The beauty of his creation fills my eyes.

My soul soars with the thought,

of what he did,

he did for us.

For our souls he was betrayed,

for our sins his life he gave.

He suffered great pain that we would not.

And all he did,

he did for us.

Forgotten,

leaves blown upon the wind where no one see's.

Forgotten,

a gull soars upon the wind over the open sea.

Forgotten,

Thoughts blown onward with a wind faster than men can

run.

Forgotten,

waves wash across a tiny reef that sinks slowly under

them.

Forgotten.

a sun in a distant sky slowly burns to ash.

Forgotten,

life moves and an egg hatchs into cold darkness.

Forgotten,

the dreams and hopes of today for tomorrow.

Forgotten,

a man steps into his darkness,

Onwards and up I rise from this blind shell,

Leaving the eyes that will not see,

ears that do not hear,

hands that cannot touch.

I long to reach the thoughts my mind cannot think,

master my feet to paths they can never walk,

speak the words known to no people.

I go to sing the songs of life with the sun,

to find the joy of being among the stars,

know wisdom in lost treks of space.

I will soar where no one may be,

speak where can be no sound,

understand that which will never be.

Born of a world of pain and war,

of man against man and brother against brother.

Of one to rise to be above another,

of one to rule another and bend the other to do his will.

Where a man will use any and all that there is to achieve his

will.

Where love is used as a tool.

Where a friend is to be used to gain a hold higher that where

one has already clawed on the ladder of men climbing men to

be greater that the other men.

Born in innocences and being pure and free from all the sins

and evil that is in and of the world.

Free of the pain made of man, so great as to change the very

world that is the home of the men who in their lust for the

power that they see with the twisted vision of their mind

that sees the world as they would have it and not as it is or

of that which it should be.

Born to grow within this world seeing the evil and lusts of

men.

Born to grow seeing all these things and to know that they

are not as they should be.

Growing within these and seeing that they cause more ill and

pain to many men who would but go their way though life and

do no ill nor harm to any man nor change that which is to be

some vain dream of their mind.

Growing to know these things and to find that they have gave

birth to a sorrow within his heart that grows so as in his

growing he comes to know more of the ill and wrongs of men.

Growing as pain deep within his very being that is becoming a

moving and living force within him that is shaping and

becoming his being in life.

Now he is that which must bear great pain to see pain in

another man.

Now he is that he can not force another to do his will.

Now to be free from anothers will he must always be.

Now he cannot cause pain in changing that which is because

another wantsit.

Living now he does no ones bidding lest he too wants it to be

done.

Living now he will and must leave even one who he may love

rather than to submit himself to her wishes,

when it is not his wish too.

Living now with so much pain that has came from living as he

must,

live that the greater pain that would come from

submission to anothers will not as his would come.

Living now in sorrow that so few who walk on this path in

life know that they are often alone upon it.

Alone he asks himself why he lives this way.

Why he has cast himself out from so much of the world.

So much that the world is and from many people that live that

way.

He asks himself why,

and he has no answer.

Reach out.

And lift your head up.

Then soften your heart,

open your soul,

and feel.

The heart beats.

Lungs draw the world in.

The world lives and moves,

within my ears.

Feet on the moist grass.

Wind through hair.

The sun flows across my chest.

Autumn savoring on the tongue.

Your mind runs through the sky.

I live,

feel,

love.

Cry

Despair

Sorrow

Pity for them

Fools who see with their eyes, not their heart

They who hear words, not understanding

They cry out for help

And wait with endless sorrow

Immortals they pray for mortals help

Endless lifes seem as endless hell

Needing only that which men can do

They wait in endless hope and sorrow

I am only one,

one person in a world of billions,

and what can I as one person do.

Can I feed the hungry masses,

or heal the sick.

Can I go among them to teach.

Before me lay many paths

And each can take me to a diffent place

And each place has its own virtures

And its own faults

Yet only along one path

To only one of the places may I go

And as I look from one to another

I see each path's beauty

And all of the others faults

And I want to first to fallow one

And then a another

And yet a another still

And so I stay here

With paths before me

Wondering which way I should go

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