On Lambs and Muses

Snow flakes falling,
building a castle to the sky
a tower to see from
watching as the world
flits and moving,
burning the roads and I know
it's just that I try
and find the means to fail.

I miss you.
I don't know who will listen
or know what it is like
to write a eulogy
and not know if you are heard.

What does it matter if any of these hear
when the only person I want to know
is on the other side of eternity?

Sometimes life feels like a sick joke,
everything we try
and the circles we run
when all I want to do is follow
and maybe see the one's I've lost.

My faith is so tired,
weary and needs rest,
the only kind
that may be found
in the meek lamb.

Little lamb
who called out to me
beckoning me to follow
when I was just a child,
fifteen years ago
you spoke
and I heard.
Ten years ago
you asked for the rest of me
and I complied.

Have we really been walking that long?
You have held me,
been so faithful
when I am so quick to despair and angst.

I just am worn down to my endings
just wanting to breath
and release all the pain,
all the tragedy
that has been held for so long.

Resolutions for questions
and things you will never tell me
but I still must ask,
Why?
Why the pain?
Why must we hurt?
How long,
how long until you come again
and end the pain?

Will I always walk alone,
being in a large crowd
but always isolated?

I miss you.
I don't know how to say it
and my clarity
feels just like lies.

I can't trust myself
and I am so quick to turn,
pointing fingers
and riding this pain
dragging it out
as long as I might.

I have no choice
and not a word
that can be spent on saying.

I have to live.
I'm needed
and when I can rest
is after going home.

But it doesn't ease the pain,
the pain of distance
the pain of loss
and how I always wonder
and my mind wanders
how thou doth fair?

But it is what it is,
so much confusion.
Beauty and pain
but every day renewed.