Never as dark

In the absence of presence and in the silence of darkness,

a mind wanders and lingers on failures it fixates

on entangled versions of this thought and that one,

the wrong one the right one,

ensnared by perception,

but never contented; serenity slips through damp fingers

made wet from the downpour of a

cloud swelling, ruptured from the force of

heat rising to boiling points driving it mad as a

mad-man who leaves you with knots in your stomach

cause nothing can match the injustice of

many lives taken for no goddam purpose, and God –

What’s the Purpose?

Trying to resolve all the random thoughts blinking like

lights in a place where no lights are,

it flickers as

eyes blink –

No shadows but thoughts of good will

casting hope onto nothing?

It’s all that it has,

and it wants to.

It must be.

It struggles to cast off the corpse to shed light,

cause it’s never as dark as

it is.