Second Guessed

I second guessed myself again-

Was it the obscure dark cloud?

Or the hazy occult smoke?

 

I doubted myself again-

Preaching, teaching,

Gnosis and salvation.

 

I spat in my eye again-

Vision beclouded

Became enshrouded.

 

Whose feet tripped me up again?

As I walked down the hall to class-

Set forth on a chosen course,

Only to fall on my arse.

 

A candle lit in the dark-

Who blew it out?

A stranger who shares my breath?

 

No. ‘Twas an all too familliar soul-

One whose hole is gaping

Tragic and torn,

Tattered and worn

-freely giving out scorn.

 

Should I, or shouldn’t I?

Why should I die?

Whose hand holds the blade- dressed all in shade?

It appears to be I.

 

A fallen myth

A forgotten trail

What befalls one befalls the other-

There is another-

A brother, a pain, a stain.

 

Be as one, not as the other

Whose mother was insane

Instigate, investigate, uncover, discover-

Who it is behind the mask that will not last- underccover.

 

Forested hills – misty chills

Steepened in places still.

Rocky path, where’s the map?

To find one’s way still.

 

By the way I have come to grasp-

Whose hand I must clasp-

It is one such as I

Closer than my eye

 

Embraced not defaced

Upheld not denied

Beloved though tried

It is for me I died.

 

Leon Bahrman

January 1, 2012

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