I Seek the Mist

To float away
Into clouds of misted grey
I leave no fortune behind
That which never materialized

To drift into peace
Upheld by the breeze left lonely
And waiting for when I will fly
Into the arms of solitude

All thoughts do dispose themselves
My mind to be left a blank
No more tears to endure
My fitful nights and restless sleeps put to death

I will look down and see nothing
Remembering none of what was my past
To think not of a future
For such a thing is not for this lucid dreamer

No hands to hold me
No hands to be held
No mind to think
No hearts

To be what my existence offers
For the happiness of others' lives
To take the stage of unending acts
My role would be a farce

Let me slip away
Let me climb the vast mountain
To escape all hopes and fears
And live in the shallows of silence

Not to hear or see
Not to touch or feel
Just to be . . .
Be not

Find me not the vacant corner
To sit and make my stance
My stature I will forfeit
My life I will renounce

Cleanse my name and reap my field
The mists of grey I call upon
Castrate all feelings and leave me a blank
Possess me in your reclusive ether

A foolish dreamer I sit alone
For want of nothing more
I thrash the need of want
I bow to my own misfortunes

I have not size, or shape, or value
I have not point of virtue
Cut up, mutilated, I purge my heart
Of all it once held dear

The pain of love does take its toll
For in it no one wins
I'll share it never, for once no more
Where I am, here no longer

I seek the mist


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