Comfort is a Bore

I wish I had a Magick Sword

with which to pierce this Reality

and emerge in to anOther

for I have grown Weary of Waiting

Though I know the Virtues of Patience

I am Young and have seen Glimpses

of my Future Greatness

It is Close at Hand

Not Close enough, I say

The Lover who is not with me 

is the One for whom I yearn the Most

It is Hunger sends this Flaneuse 

into the Darkened Streets

where AnyThing can happen

Somewhere out there is my Destiny, I think

though Currently I am starving

Visions are Perilous

Were it not for them

I might be Some Place Safe Right now

But just as these Tears

are ripped Burning from my Face

and the Gaggles point and laugh at me

or do not notice I am there

so I keep on trekking

I have been promised I will have it All

EveryThing I'm craving

Who can deny that Voice?

What else is there to live for?

My Friends

Comfort is a Bore