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Dedicated to a friend who has many gifts that I
hope one day he will recognize
Night falls on desperate eyes
While scavenger's scurry about for the prize
Chasing images of my own grand design
Illusions, of a different kind
Lost in a waking dream
It hurts inside
Broken spirit - broken pride
The illusion fades, for it was just a short
story
floating on the hope of all my glory
And in the end there was no end
Just another journey interrupted
Who am I to play a part….
a role amongst the living
Who would want a part of me? ….
To give what I am taking, or take what I am
giving
The illusion of what I could be from the start,
was my own imagination
I see that now, I created this need, this drive
It was me who brought the script alive with
whims and fascination
I would scream, whimper really for help to find
the pain
Which hid throughout my body in the shadows like
a game
Give me strength god damn it ……
I just want understanding to be sane
Wandering into the night lost and alone
It hurts; a constant pain like in my shoe there
is a stone……
of indecision, confusion
Looking back however, I have traveled far, and
you know I think I've grown
Into what, into who? …… A life on loan
What do I create now at the crossroads of my
depression?
What for me will replace the purpose of my
burning desire
maybe, just maybe I had to walk through the fire
To clear my vision so that I could see
The images were not really about anything at all
Except my inability to be me
Copyright 2001 Brianna Austin All Rights
Reserved
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