FOUND lost in the shuffle

by Gerald T. Ching

Wandering amongst the ruins of a decayed wasteland,

my eyes scan the debris and rubble, yearning

for answers. Digging

in the trenches, I search

for what I cannot have.

Within this perpetuation

I am bound to this obsessiveness

that leads me by the tip of my nose

through the fields within my mind, in addiction.

Against bitter swirling winds I am blown,

but still I press on. Little dogs nip

at the heels of my feet as I shoulder the wind. Running

at a snail’s pace I make my way towards destruction. Pulled

by invisible strings, I am

forever bound to this driven path.

Caught within the sands of time,

I melt into wickedness.

The barrier that has shielded me

for all of my years slowly starts to dissolve

into the aging decay of my darkened soul.

Beaten and scarred

with scarlet letters pinned to my breast,

the aura of my former self

suffocates in this dimming light

forever found wishing to be lost

once again to ignorance. All the many answers

to the simplicity of why, fill and clutter my head.

Confusion sets in

as the overload siren honks and hoots in the still air.

Anxiety sets in

as steam starts to pour from every orifice of my body,

draining me, leaving me exhausted, spent, and shivering in space.

Sinking in to the darkness of my shadow

that has become my soul, the tensionsof this heartache

eases; helping to soften the wrinkles

that spider web around my impure eyes.

Floating into a dreamscape of reality

I melt into deep slumber

and am set free into the cosmos

with memories of old coming to life,

filling the deepness of my heart.

In this weightless environment

all things become possible. The lost moments

that have haunted my wakened existence are relived in perfection;

impulsive decisions turn into thoughtful evaluations

as hindsight becomes foresight

with prudence reigning above all.

The should’ve, would’ve, could’ve procrastinations

become living assertive realities, while 

 the chest of regret that a lifetime has gathered and stockpiled

groans in defiance as it feels its demise come charging in.

The chains that have kept

these sorrows safe, snap like twigs

as an Angel of the Lord riding a fiery steed of Hope

blazes in on this vision, setting it to ash;

to linger no longer in the remnants of longing.