My External Locus of Identity?

The internal questioning on who we are, and who we want to be, that we all know too well.

Is it not prudent to point out towards

the ridges Daddy told me not to climb or

look beyond?

How melancholy is the field of azure

with no sacred taint

of crimson?

Or even a lion rampant in the field

of the clouds above

and below?

When does my life meet my courage

and shake hands with one another 

like distant friends?

I do ask now; why can I not

peek beyond the

walls of my eternal house?

Could God reveal

why my house is here but

my home is there?

For was Gaea not born

out of the depravity 

of Chaos?

Was God not made 

redundant in full by

the non-believer?

Can you see the toad of truth squatting in

the mire of absolute

blindly gotten rage?

Feverishly sleeping only for

the hectic calm

as it quickly slows

Will our ever-changing conflict of 

unparalleled beauty see the

light of day?

I will be waiting. 

Reviews

[Quill]

powerful stuff, nice choice of words

[Luca Basso]

Thank you very much!