Lost in Longing

even a tired body doesn't know sleep

when the mind, aware and awake, disturbs

hands and arms and legs. what's there to be thought

in days like days like these, warm, the air so

heavy and humid one can barely breathe

without feeling the head pulse and veins beating away,

drum-like, a day-time trance. you got sweat

pouring off your forehead, ideas and memories,

notions of a lost, long forgotten world. the streets are not

what they used to be anymore, and people

no longer care for other people -

barely noticing we all share one single, common fate,

the same destiny since the earth is earth,

solid ground covered in dust, days to live

reaching closer to death, and the leaving of all things behind,

the long lost goodbye. November days, as I ask

myself what makes time now other than waiting to be past.

age of concrete. god was dead a long time ago, now men

can no longer believe in men either, alone, half the story

left untold, that yes we're individuals but as humans

we are just the one, single idea that we can endure,

suffer and wish to die, and love, and feel the rain like

no one ever felt before, redemption and resurrection,

the glory of losing everything

and still have a reason to live.