What is it that makes me who I am?
Why so often do I feel lost?
Listless...
Like I'm floating on an angry ocean
alone...
with nothing to cling to
but the last remaining logs
of a raft that is held together
by my fast and fading dreams.
I don't know...
I don't have any answers
and every time I think I find one
it's really only another question
masquerading
as some small piece of insight.
I have a sail
but it hangs lifeless
motionless...
as if time has forgotten that it even exists,
as if I exist.
It has been so long
since I have felt the winds of hope
brush against my cheek,
the breath of love
blow into the fabric of my heart.
Aeolus, make me a zephyr
so that I may fill my own sails
and breeze back into
the truth of who I am,
so that once again
I can experience life
without the constant swells
of the judgmental seas.
Free me so that I can dream.