Stream

How questions pour in the stream of my mind’s flow— 
No answers come from my world’s vast tableau. 
All paths sealed shut by some unknown hand, 
Leaving you alone, empty, in the sand.

I grope in the dark of souls drawing near, 
Words to speak aloud? I dare not, I fear. 
Seeking a switch to ignite someone’s light? 
Or no way out—and no self to indict?

Yet light exists—it wells from within, 
If it surges, it sweeps all barriers thin. 
Just spark the flame, hold it close to your core, 
And from this blaze, your whole being will roar.

Fear not. Fan it. Like dawn in the east, 
Soul’s edge like sky—untouched, unreached, released. 
Winds will follow, fanning embers to fire, 
All that was foul burns to ash in the pyre.

Fears, stones of doubt—fall as cinders around, 
The Traitor collapses, if “best friend” once crowned. 
From penniless drought, dry, no scar, no trace, 
All fades to sky-smoke, veiled by moon’s grace.