I keep asking myselves
Why this is, why I am yet to find
The sublime, to experience awe
Instead of just endless fear.
I keep asking myselves
Why my wings cannot take me
High and higher skywards
Instead of just burn and chain me.
I keep asking myselves
Why I doubt myself, why trust
Is so abundant in others
And so lacking in a solemn self.
I keep asking myselves
My scattered brains
Of suggestions to resolution
Of means to avoid destitution
But I hear only whispers
Out of bounds: out of reach.
