Wanting  leaking from my eyes
I wipe away the weakness
Pushing moisture to the side

Feeling has lost its meaning
Aching jabs won’t stay at bay
Easy joy escapes me
Chases happiness away

Thinking becomes doing
Wayward thoughts alive and well
As I near the precipice
I sense a coming swell

Dark orbs search, high and empty
No emotion in them seen
Merely blankness and a hint
Hint of mischievous gleam

Senses all overwhelmed
There’s a nasty storm brewing
And nobody’s at the helm