There Is More.. Poem by john coldwell

The truth bites, and my mind rejects it’s reality,
All that is in me is fled, leaving me empty.
Panic rises and grows into madness,
I stumble unseen, in my own wilderness.
Hearing only the howls of my loneliness.

Barren hills of despair rise everywhere,
Daily, I drag my life of un-care,
Becoming more ragged as I go.
Voices silently mouth the honesties of thieves
And their shrugging advices are dry,
Like dead leaves.

But it doesn’t matter anyway,
All is consumed in heartbreak and loss.
Nothing left now,
No future,
No hope,
No purpose,
No good,
No bad,
No direction,
No joy,
No pleasure,
Only the twitching limbs of the last of life
Keep me moving.

Yet there is a distant regret
For principles once held,
For ideals, now sordid.
My wanderings bring me to the precipice,
That I might decide to leap, a jarring peace.

There are those who urge me on,
And I would gladly go,
But for the love of those I leave behind.
They would see me fly,
But I expect I’ll die.
And with me, their faith.

That is the leap… of faith

That fills up the heart, and firms up the flesh?
That powers my limbs, and restores my soul?
With words of life, and visions of hope.
It is from without, there was nothing within.
Die, to be born again.