Who do you tell

That you're tired?

To whom do you say that sometimes you feel the weight of a thousand worlds on your mind

Not a physical kind, but one that in spite of your

Mental fortitude

Intellectual capacity

Will to persevere - 

You wonder - why does it seem like it's never enough?

You wonder - what will it take to return to joy?

Who do you tell

You feel lost?

 How do you say that you, once the beacon of direction

Of common sense

The logical one

The faith-filled fire brand

Feel lost upon the oceans that once provided comfort to your soul

That the prayers that once brought you warmth

Now sound empty

The Benevolent far away, cold, angry, unreachable.

Who do you tell 

That you're scared?

That the fearless one has a ghost

Gnawing on the insides of her mind?

Always wondering, always watching

Trying to keep the howling hounds in your head at bay.

Think! But all that is ahead is an abyss

With no idea how to cross it

And the promise of a better this and that fading

With each look into the warm endless blackness.

You feel lost, but not lost;

Scared but hope holds on to the waning flame for dear life, waiting. Hoping;

Tired but knowing that the day of rest must come, in this life, or the one to come.