Journey’s End



Searching for a soul mate,

(or kindred spirit in the words of another)

defines this journey as well as any other

bitter wine consumed along the way.


Most are lucky to find even one,

or is the definition just elusive?

circling, circling around the edge

 of how this thing might look…


He is continually disillusioned when drinking

 too deeply from their soulful books of

those who came before and after 

(the names don’t matter a lot)


The point of frisson always morphs

 into the face and spirit of another,

who fights or writes in words of love

(tho’ called a different name)

on birthday cards or wrapped around

 a lovers’ demise to then arise,

 phoenix like,

 to empty this well

(his darkest well)




Words on cards so carefully

stored away in heart and hard drive

of the ever dissatisfied soul of those

who live in unrequited desires,

based on ancient memories of those

who call out without even trying

to her everlasting search

 for the bad boy to treat the need

that caring ones can never meet


It is all that he seeks

All that he wants

All that he needs

But it always comes

With strings attached

Leading to others

Who inherently possess

That which he lacks —

To  somehow be

 that kindred spirit

In her eyes,

Alone, soaring, glorious

Beyond description


Once again, he comes to the bridge,

Of empty realization that what he is

Can never be that which she seeks

Sadness overwhelms

All that is good and positive

And points the way to dissolution.





copyright….ahhh…who cares

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