Bittersweet

Half of my life has gone
And I have not,
Nor will,
Accomplish the vision of
What I set out to see.

To feel.

Not the idealized version of
Some romance fulfilled
Not a fairy tale,
Nor indulgence,
Not money,
Nor the silver sword barer
On a ghostly white horse

But a craze and a deep seeded need.

A tumultuous need
So sick,
And so tortured
Of a craft by nature
Now life has far removed

The lights and the noise
Hard to recite
Raw
Yet swooning,

In absence of ego,

The view of all faces
Strange and so vast
A feeling indescribable
Nor for anyone to understand

Age has come quick
But the want stands still
and the release from thy love
And the sound,

The voice

The sound that has saved
And yet,
Forever kills me