Stare skyward and pray for a sign.
Look to the blackness,
And wonder why.
Wonder how. Wonder when. Wonder what.
Why can I hear the music play,
Softly echoing the day’s potential away,
Without words, without cause,
The nowhere it comes from gives me pause,
But not enough to stop the cello in my ears.
How can I live with the phantom sound?
I beg it to drown out the doubt,
But I can’t function when I can’t even think.
How can I make any progress,
When the stress of securable success is making me regress?
When will I stop dreading moving up?
When will enough cowardice be enough?
When will the chorus of my own thoughts
Bring clarity and not pain?
How long can I continue burrowing deeper into my safe cave?
What about Now?
What does it all mean?
What more can I hope to be,
If I only wish to sit brooding in the dark,
Praying for a God that will not come to save me from me?