I, listless,
Have seen the depth of the labyrinth, and been
the beggar pleading liberation's joy.
I, peace,
Have spoken among the dead, and held their truth
even as dust covered tombs lie still.
I, hatred,
Know the meaning of the lack-lustre smile
recurring in the blind mouths you seek.
I,nostalgia,
Wonder at the lakes of tears that tried so
Many times to raise me buoyant in pain.
I,fantasy,
Sense your invisible approach as clear as
the pictures Ive seen, eyes open- eyes shut-both.
I, freedom,
like sweet holiday's best- taking me without
pretexts' ever pressing wish for something else.