I'm a lost soul,
With few sprinkles of hope
That keep me alive.
That whispers to me at night
'All is not lost'
And perhaps there is redemption,
And perhaps even salvation,
For our mothers,
for our brothers.
Perhaps we are all sparks,
Separated by time and space,
Distanced by the means of those that seek to consume us,
To extinguish our light,
To numb our thoughts.
They have convinced us that we are alone,
In this cold damp Hell,
And that no one shares our thoughts.
Crazy, they say.
But insanity resonates more truthfully.
Perhaps I am insane.
For the simple fact that I desire a change
In the mode of thought.
Perhaps because I desire to escape
The foundation that has been laid out before me,
And create my own world
Without the flaws of the past,
To put in the flaws of the current age,
So that I might at least understand them,
To correct the mistakes that I've recognize as mistakes
So as to improve my condition
And the conditions of other sparks,
Perhaps because I want something more,
I'm insane, perhaps,
Because I'm not seeking an Eutopia,
Because I'm not aiming for perfection.
Because what I want is a life on my own terms.
A world that belongs to me.
Because I want to feel at home with the world,
rather than a long-term visitor.