There Is No Path

Maybe no one is truly aware

As much as we aim to be.

Living, growing, transformation,

Post-stagnation apathy.

A step forward is learned

As all mistakes are lessons.

Lack of use atrophies

Like love does in depression.

Lost in some quagmire

I’m watching you flail

With the confident notion

I’ve passes where you fail.

It’s pitiful to see,

But each life is its own.

As much as I’ve flailed

Is as much as I’ve known.

But even one step

In your chosen direction

Could lead you astray

In an open-end question.

Answers are elusive,

However much we must learn,

But even a fragment

Of perception is well-earned.

 

Blissed

I’m saving for a life,

For the prospect of better moments

Outside of time wasted

On boredom, sleep, or pain.

Exposing every injury,

Exploring my faults and fears

To the very roots of consciousness

Proves essential to progress.

Dilemmas and desires cross

Like first-loves and jealous lust,

Eroding us internally

Until we bleed them out.

Our most blissed moments

Exist long enough to be missed,

As in, yearning for whole hearts

After they’ve been severed.

Perfection is ever sought,

Though most agree it’s impossible,

So we live for those moments

When we can’t feel any flaws.