Lost

We are only a little lost.
We poke our heads out from behind dead trees,
Eyes sweeping fallen limbs left behind
From days spent in yearning.
Whispers assault our ears,
Begging us where to begin,
Where to end.
All I can do is shrug.
There isn’t much advice to give.
All I know is what I’ve found here for myself:
Slumbering trees buried deep under layers of frost and ice,
A frozen home for one.
I am only a little lost,
As I wander the populated earth alone.
An empty room bursting at the seams,
Overflowing with desperation and ignorance.
Falling into the silence,
I’m searching for the life
That was promised me through story books, fantasies.
All of it lies.
What a sweet way to despise one’s self.
The frozen limbs I’ve built my home in,
Frozen in time and place,
Wash away my surface sorrows
Like cold waters of snowy lakes.
They say silent waters run deep,
But sometimes I have to wonder
Do they really run shallow?
We are only a little lost
In this rampaging world of iron armor.
Words so congested and stopped in time,
The clock slowly ticking and fading away
So slowly.
All this time I am still sitting on the mangled stump
Of my life gone dead,
Trying to figure out which way is which.