promises

the way I'd like to see it
is so often the path
to deception
and dread

in so many lands
the refusal
of bread
is offensive
to the point
of death

one breath
too many
offered
in the guise
of truth

intention
is no proof
of intent
and the latent
contempt
kills
slowly

like a cancer
coldly
infiltrating
leaving little stings
all along
the way

the day will come
when I will no longer
be able
to shun
that
which I truly
want
deserve
believe

and then
I pray
for the relief
of rapture

a moment
my soul
can capture
and germinate
and clone

one moment
that will save me
from the endless
alone
I know

and in these days
of uncertainty,
confusion,
desire
and void
of direction
I move either
too fast
or too slow
to capture
the beauty
and gems
that come to my hand...

so it is
that often
the gold
slips through
even as I am bemused
by the grand vision
of gold sun
dancing
in clear water
cooled
by the long journey
down.

My vision blurs,
my voice falters,
my mind
fails me

and then
I just stand
and smile
and nod
and secretly pray
for something
to say
to impress
my self-worth...

yet I am so often
just
simply
lost
in the presence
and witness
of what
I want.

I fail
when it counts