I can’t find the words

To tell you how I’m feeling

In my foggy brain

What new forms of life

Will spawn and rise from the dust

Of my final grave?

Wind howls in the eaves

These storms may be good for thieves

I roll up my sleeves

A stag ruts and bolts

Antlers clash, heads butt and bold

Hooves beat a retreat

There are gaping holes

Where once wide hedgerows did grow

What are my blind spots?

Just over the hill

Reaching for a stronger light

Stretching is the point

Wild rabbits graze free

Tamer squirrels up above

Clamber carelessly

I am only clay

The rain washes me away

Until none remains

The moon pulls me back

In the never ending tides

I begin again

Flee from hedge to fence

Faster than a lightning flash

Catch me if you can

We can never catch

The sun’s transcendental rise

In a glass bottle

Who will I become

If I learn every lesson?

When am I not me?

A cold hard mirror

Again I make my peace with

Mediocrity

Slipping in the mire

Scrambling into the darkness

Do I walk alone?

These mountains we climb

We bound and scale further than

Those inside our minds

Four carrion crows

They see my shadowy soul

From the gallows pole

Hiding in hedges

Finding a safe place to rest

Away from the wolves

I hedge myself in

On my solitary island

With no one to hear

I see morning stars

Giving me a beating heart

Just another scar

Behind my cold eyes

Something burns inside of me

Maybe you can see