Enigma Me
Tony DeLorger © 2016
All I know is me, as unavailable as I can be,
lost in this surge of life, this confusion of being,
where lessons like arrows relentless, pierce my skin,
and the blood is just my misunderstandings leaving.
Zealous I have been to know me,
to strip the veils of pretense, the delusions of comfort,
that mark my slow ascent to sagacious states,
only to find I am a double agent, and layers fall to truth.
I am my own mystery, my own enigma,
a puzzle too deep to swallow whole,
and for all my quests, my inclusions of consideration,
I still find more beneath my presumed control.
I may lay prostrate upon a cold stone slab,
as if to splay my flesh to autopsy’s whim,
and yet the findings ‘by self harm, death’
would prove I am my own worse enemy.
I feel that life exerts no will upon me,
rather, I within it pay the price of my own travail,
yet in discovery there seems no end,
for shadows so deep within still resonate, commend.
Perhaps the knowing in full can’t be,
maybe I am a work in progress, of never end,
but I still try to grasp myself, threaten till I spill the beans,
before the slab has time to decide my fate,
and my soul to send.
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We are all a work in progress, knowing who we really are is a mystery. I strive to find myself daily, in search of ME, yet I doubt he will ever be truly found. I flagellate myself mentally, truly unaware or understanding myself. As if pain I seek for wrongs put upon me, I should be satisfied that my release was found by leaving the past behind, but can we ever truly be released, except for death departing. Your expression of YOU is duly noted my friend, we are in many ways kindred indeed. Well written as always.
Thanks Vincent, yes we are indeed kindred spirits, and no matter how we feel about the outside world, the connection that many of us have in our expression, is deeper than many of the relationships we have for a lifetime. I truly value them. Cheers!
Always a work in progress, are we not? That photo of the sand dune sure is symbolic, for it moves and changes constantly just as we do. Always such a joy to read your pondering thoughts, Tony. Life is mysterious.
Indeed we are all mysteries Phyllis. Glad you enjoyed my thoughts. Take care.