November 22, 2004

No Sign–post, And No–one

How much time before a signpost may be seen?
How much walk, and which way, which direction?
I am afraid that I’ll be tired, and that I will not find it
That which I am looking for.

How long still, before a people’s face will fade?
Their great shared being, collective desire?
That the sea washes over, time after time
Apathetically, yes, so careless and hurting
As it is washed away.

Shout I will, desperately
And miles away it will resound
But who will hear?
Before my voice dies away.

Not without a fight, not like that, no!
I will struggle, loosen a grip of my wrists
Attempt to shake it off, grasp
That it not be air!
That it is not a void, I beg.

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