reality. what a trip. i move about, i wander astray, yet it seems that it is never as real as it could be. i go for a walk, i sit for a drive, and the clouds continue to roll on by; for where is this place i claim to rest my head, where is this place i claim to live instead?it often feels like a dream, or a blink of an eye; what is this awakening, this call in my brain - is it a stutter of reality or am i just insane? i attempt to lift my head on a rainy day, but it does not differ from cloudless rays; what is this twisting in my bones, this aching in my heart?
all this may seem strange or absurd at least, but it is an unknowing from which i need relief. how much longer will this stay, how much longer shall we play in this facade stricken land; can it remain a fact of thought or will i ever see You face to face?
it’s hope that keeps me alive, keeps me running the race; for You know that it is not i, but You, that i should relate. i call upon Your name, i ask to see Your face, but i remain wandering in this land of shame. who’s to see or who’s to know the mystery for which You have called us to be. a wander am i without a home, reality torn into this body in which i was born, cannot wait for the love which i must find.
