Wild with grief,
I tear my hair,
try to think of the people
who've cared about me,
cheery concerned feminine faces
of many different shapes and races,
the voices of men who've offered a helping hand,
even when I was a drunken stranger in a distant jungle land.
These days I'm striving to unite my fractaled mind,
and leave a thousand deathly memories behind,
to loose energies by fear confined,
oh, to arrive at some fledgling peace of mind.
I'm trying to lay aside losing ways,
been lost so long in a depressive daze;
it's confusing to feel new strength in my veins.
Looking back, I really think,
despite all my weakness and addiction to drink, there were heroic quests,
and seeds of enlightenment scattered to the mighty breeze.
