Fine Senses

Sometimes I twist myself into the smallest space 

so I cannot be found

to see the eyes of any other would leave me so exposed

and rip their heart to shreds

I have no wish to cause such harm, so tighter coil my soul

Until it ceases to be seen

as one unending whole



For anyone to know this depth of inexplicable thought

would surely have condemnation pouring forth

and medication sought



Too many times the strands of pain and every little thing

has caused such great unnerving  

expressed itself unseen

misunderstood, without recourse

no burden do I willingly convey upon a sojourner

unless I am rightly empowered

to show another way

For anyone to view this depth of inexplicable thought

Would surely not have solace as they strive

To bring all this to naught



There is one path for every man to travel in this realm

Which leads to greater or to lesser things than I have found

So for today I take the step that propels me ever forward

amongst the many finer souls

I pray will never undergo

such breadth

such depth of pain

For anyone to feel this depth of inexplicable thought

would know the futile struggle of my soul

and gladly pass the cup



That there was once upon a time one Man who understood

is presently the only thought 

that gives me will to live

I cannot pass the baton 

to an unwitting soul

for a time I must remain

Hidden inside my gaol



For anyone to taste this depth of inexplicable thought

would surely quickly spit it out

as poison fraught with death



Tighter coil the ropes that bind me to my thoroughfare

along the path no doubt there’ll be 

transient benevolence

a wish to ease such solemn pain

but fail to comprehend

there is a road we all travail

irrevocably alone



For anyone to hear this depth of inexplicable thought

would render all conclusions madness

of one tormented soul



The truth lies in the hands of One who never will abscond

I surrender to this walk 

upon my lowly trail

until the purpose is complete

when I’ll re-enter by the Living Veil

to play the game their way

derided, scorned, no shame remains



For them to smell this depth of inexplicable thought

would serve to guide them to His Feet

as All that’s ever sought

H Hales March 2012