Sweet Mystery

cold hunger moves on,

forever searching for sacred omissions

upon which these scattered ambitions

lie waiting, reaching farther for just one moment

where refuge may be found;

it is here we make our final stand,

alone and unafraid,

the outcome already decided,

by rhymes and reasons

beyond our ability to control;

standing still,

holding our breath for worlds unseen,

giving it up at bargain basement costs,

then wondering why it is

there never seems to be enough

to go around;

ah yes,

here it comes again,

sweet mystery,

smooth like silk,

how much more can be absorbed,

before slipping into the endless dream.

.

.