Out There

Out there, on the open fields,
The rolling hills, the endless sky,
You wait for something mystical,
As hours creep, and wind blows by —

And though I’ve told you many things
Among the hints I’ve given,
  My words are not enough to build
  A world for you to live in.

Out there, as the morning comes,
And worries start to congregate,
You listen for a missing voice,
Your sorrows to ameliorate —

I sense the way that feelings crowd,
Your swirling head is teeming,
  But my words aren’t enough to clear
  A pathway for your dreaming.

For “out there”‘s where you find yourself
In far too many ways,
You can’t shake off this lassitude,
This maddening malaise –
The things that made you smile once,
You look at without feeling,
And all the magic in the sky
Is just another ceiling —

Out there, where the Autumn cries,
And passions crumble in the grass,
You feel your body trembling,
From weight of what has come to pass,

But still, I send the love I have,
These words to show I care,
  So you can close your eyes, and know
  That someone else
  Is out there

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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