aches, pains.
they spill from my heart and my mind goes wild, wild, wild.
wild i tell you and to what end even the angels do not know.
my minds births galaxies awake and moving, hurting, and they hurt me.
these galaxies are ugly, evil things and they whip my mind until it bleeds.
i scratch, scratch, knock and knock, but nothing seems to fix this tick within.
if i listen to this music, will this roaring ocean subside?
no, the roars are louder now.
if i run, run, run until my legs give way like old sailors on land will this pain in my head cease its beating?
no, it beats me more now.
if i think it through with logic and reason and all the wisdom of Solomon will these questions bow?
no, they only rise up to rebel all the more.
what is my cure?
i am a sick man, but i have no cold.
i am a tired father, but i have thoughts for children.
i am a overrun ruler, and my subjects are questions.
stop your beating!
it is not your castle.
“but you invited us here.”
true.
i did.
why did i?
i do not enjoy their company.
i loathe their comfort.
for it is not comfort at all.
and yet, i need it.
do i?
hands run through wild forests scalp and hair.
it needs cutting.
but a thousand other cries are louder.
where are my keys?
where is my spirit?
they both have flown away.
shall i see them again?
i hope.
and all at once i realize these thoughts are nothing more than lies.
and lies do not make room for love.
if love will come, will these worries flee?
if love will come, will these strivings cease?
if love will come, will this machine of a mind stop its fury?
i have known love, and i have known doubt, and both are incessant in marrying me.
which shall i marry?
i wish to marry love, but doubt is a cunning mistress.
i need more than love to conquer her temptations.
i need Love, blood and water, spirit and fire.
for my mind is a temple, but i know one who arms himself with a whip and passion and destroys those who dare peddle for the holy space of my mind.
and his name is Jesus.
the unworthy wanderer 