Fighting Floundering

Knocked down again, but can I yet give anything while I live?
There’s no use crying ‘not fair,’ but it’s more than I can bear ~
This tears at my soul with gaping hole ~ but who stole peace?
And who put my spirit on lease, and made all my joy to cease
While I keep counting miles of trials, drinking bile from phial
Of demonic origin and sucking oxygen like a suffocating man
Who fans the flames of his own passion without any blame
Accruing to his name, without any shame or trying to tame
Such an untamable wild heart that desires a higher purpose,
To acquire a meaning above and beyond what was spawned
Upon the day of his birth when he received all of his worth,
Which in bitter mind he now considers dearth of real value;
Yet I am still trying to find some kind of explanation
For having no vocation or location in a divine plan,
And this keeps me spinning without winning any sympathy
Or empathy of fellow pilgrims on an earthbound pilgrimage,
That ‘ll end in an age to come when God turns the last page

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7 thoughts on “Fighting Floundering

  1. Wonderful! You’ve illustrated the frustration of life and midnight torments perfectly!
    And I thank you for describing the freight train of my mind in such an incredibly eloquent way!
    Well done sir….indeed!๐Ÿ™
    Blessings and Peace to you and yours!๐Ÿ™
    ๐Ÿพ๐Ÿˆ Andrea.

  2. Ah, those answers we are all looking for. Some appear to be right in front of us. Some will only be revealed, I believe, as we lived our life to the length we suppose to and learned all the lessons we need to learn.
    Beautiful poem, dear Jonathan.

    1. Thank you so much, Patty! And you are certainly right: Some answers seem so simple and obvious, while we have to wait for others as we continue our life journey. Blessings to you!

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