When I sit alone I talk to him.
My path, my guide, my closest kin.
His presence a lightning storm of pain.
My rudders in this ocean of change.
When I sit alone I listen to him.
To the endless talk of blabbering confusion;
And piece together my pearls of wisdom,
Pearl periods that end sentences of existence.
When I sit alone I’m all I need to be,
To be contemplating ‘to be or not to be.’
It’s my being that’s being in question here.
I am that I am, so what is it I fear?
When I sit alone he shows me I’m small.
Another grain of sand on the ocean floor.
My dreams, my pride, my loves, my goals;
Just expensive wrapping on an empty soul.
When I sit alone I touch his reality.
He, the watcher in this gluttonous fantasy.
When I sit alone is when I understand him,
That mysterious God lurking under my skin.
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