The Wandering Spirit

 

Praying to a God I'm not sure even exists,

Looking through blurred vision at a ghost passing by.

I follow this spirit in hopes that it will lead me to peace,

Free from all the turmoil my life has already become.

The God I pray to still does not return my call,

I ask the spirit if this great being is at all true,

But it continues to float along on its journey,

Wandering the darkened night.

I follow closely listening with deafening ears for the stalkers who pray on the innocent.

The spirit suddenly stops and turns towards me with a tear in its eye,

I can't see clearly but the face seems so familiar I almost begin to weep.

Then my ears start to strain as I hear the end come near,

And realize that I have been doing nothing but following myself.

Fore this spirit is me,

And I am caught in another dream.

 

 

Written by Jason Barrigan 6/22/06