** Dedicated to a friend who has many gifts that I hope one day he will recognize

Night falls on desperate eyes
While scavenger's scurry about for the prize
Chasing images of my own grand design
Illusions, of a different kind

Lost in a waking dream
It hurts inside
Broken spirit - broken pride

The illusion fades, for it was just a short story
floating on the hope of all my glory
And in the end there was no end
Just another journey interrupted

Who am I to play a part….
a role amongst the living
Who would want a part of me? ….
To give what I am taking, or take what I am giving

The illusion of what I could be from the start, was my own imagination
I see that now, I created this need, this drive
It was me who brought the script alive with whims and fascination

I would scream, whimper really for help to find the pain
Which hid throughout my body in the shadows like a game
Give me strength god damn it ……
I just want understanding to be sane

Wandering into the night lost and alone
It hurts; a constant pain like in my shoe there is a stone……
of indecision, confusion
Looking back however, I have traveled far, and you know I think I've grown
Into what, into who? …… A life on loan

What do I create now at the crossroads of my depression?
What for me will replace the purpose of my burning desire
maybe, just maybe I had to walk through the fire
To clear my vision so that I could see
The images were not really about anything at all
Except my inability to be me

Copyright 2001 Brianna Austin All Rights Reserved