Monday, 11 November 2013

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

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

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

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