If There Is Such A Way

Surrounded by a million tones, not woven by me

And I cannot decipher one from another

But there is a symphony of perfection to be drank all at once

And I am drunk

Drunk on the shades of spring

Yet still I chatter a thousand woes, haunting the evening waves

Am I a lunatic?

For it feels the moon draws all that dwells involuntary

Would I choose this crazy distinction?

I’d rather root beneath the worms and grow without this trouble

Where all I would want is to slowly dance to where I rest most comfortably

Or to climb the walls, not afraid of position

Is this my prison, believing I am not such a way?

That fate is my own doing

I often pray my thoughts to be swiftly caught by an eagles claw, then released far from land

Filtered by the salt and dispersed upon the seabed, food for the fishes

Ideals I’ve collected, are they to sculpt me? Like hands without permission roaming my naked skin

I quiver

And may I throw that to the birds also

So how,

If there is such a way

Am I to be?