(no subject)

[muttchild]

I'm told the future is not written in stone
Yet sometimes things feel as though it's written in moist clay; waiting for the kiln
I think there for I am;
I am a God
I am a single grain of sand
Time continues to pass and as I look at my skin,
I see the scars that time has left
When I look up from the scars I see endless time
The sun continues to rise and set
The moon continues to rise and set
People continue to grow, live and die
All I see is time passing

I eat but my hunger is left unfulfilled
I drink and the sensation repeats
Inhaling the sweet tobacco gives me comfort with which is short lived
I watch the night sky and the hunger seems to settle ever so slightly
But, just as the tobacco, it is short lived
I pace back and forth like the habitual patterns of a caged panther in a zoo
Yearning from within excitement and thrill; feels just out of reach
Time flows ever getting closer to The Day; That Year; Thee Time

I look to the ground and see through it; that which gets people committed
Smelling the air and feeling things that can be diagnosed delusional schizophrenia
Hallucinations escape my vision but what I sense has form
I feel the pull; the tug into the cardinal directions yet into myself
Through me flows eternity; through me flows nothingness