To Know or Not to Know

It is what a man thinks of himself that really determines his fate. - Thoreau

You know that thing inside that makes you care?

Causing you to swear?

Making you rise up to take a dare?

No matter when or where?

I've lost it.

It's gone.

Stripped away.

Like a wall of cardiac decay.

On worn knees when I pray.

When night stays forever like an eclipsed day.

With nothing more to say.

Where the wind screams sorry.

Bidding love so long.

Enduring pain.

Begging and pleading with ashen rain.

Seemingly in vain.

Where the tears of innocence gather in a forgotten puddle.

And demons lock arms in pity's huddle.

Where deserts stretch on forever.

And Hell's angels are clever.

Where a higher power rules.

And proud men are fools.

Waiting for redemption.

Impatient for truth to arrive.

Clinging to hope.

Like a syringe of damned dope.

A never ending tunnel.

A bitterness funnel.

A place where a mother whips her children with an old leather belt.

Where life is felt.

Sleeping on December's cold, barren ground in an old churchyard.

Where elusive peace is hard.

Expecting a meeting with the almighty.

Crying out from that place where no one should ever have to go.

Thank God ... 

... you don't know ...

Author's Note

"What means the fact--which is so common, so universal--that some soul that has lost all hope for itself can inspire in another listening soul an infinite confidence in it, even while it is expressing its despair?" - Thoreau