A New Dawn?

Nothing seems to please
Trying to survive
Tryst of us, blame reserved
Only toward me
Music of a symphony of confused state
No notes, devoid of rhythmic warm
Just sound, without structure

A bridge I stare over
Precipice I teeter toward
Wine of vitality making me sick
Forward decision, but feel of no direction
Motionless yet still moving

A fog I try to see through
I fail to traverse
Cloud to my mind
Hurt
Indecision
Nerves Fray, thoughts betray
Try to understand, yet babel stands as a monolith to me

I transform, but remain the same
To others, to me
I fail
Yet yearn and try
Alone, in alcoholic despair
Weak, yet fighting
Confused, yet sane
Me, but not myself

I cut deep, but never bleed
Not a person
Just a number
Just a fragment of history
To be forgotten like the shifting sands

Nothing to everything, but to everyone.

Ian V. Seymour ©2011

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