Growing Pains

limbs aching to attain an art

heart bursting for love of exertion

admiration for HIM who blessed 

that which disciplines

no limitations 

direction, and yet, freedom

the lights, the rush, the frantic

change.

knowing. 

where it was, and doing then.

design apparent, proven clear

the strain was good and meant success

now means nothing

or does it?

abstract; an art; a life, a love.

seemingly once lost and not regained

there was no thief, for it was me who lost you

so afraid you were so much better than (i)

the arts are lost

and all for what - monetary gain

means nothing to a heart fed by the art 

the diet shan't change as the creature may perish

for lack of expression

ache 

is the expression, the passion

the drive

exertion proves past fulfilling
longing for knowledge of direction
gnawing at the heart.

for it is now judged, and sadly
not for its art 
it must weather on
instead judged for productivity
the harsh productivity of rush and change
though there are no lights
here...