WITHOUT A VISION I PERISH
Without a vision
Wasting, wandering away
Aching, foundering display
Of all I claim to cherish.
What of revision
And second sight?
What of hope and hope’s historic might?
Lifting my view, gazing the floor—
Sifting review that razes the floor,
Two directions but one plight.
For a new mission
I do implore,
And beg that God would redesign the floor;
Inventing a plan, enchanting my heart,
Repenting man, revealing new start,
For this I wish and nothing more.
Time for decision—
But I’m not so sure;
Launching, stepping off the ledge,
Or watching? Trembling fear’s a wedge
Twixt the ledge and me secure.
And so derision
Loud, haunting remarks
Proud, daunting remarks
I know them now and so reflect.