We look outward, aching for answers
Grasping at vessels that glitter with promise
but hold no weight
Gold is not stumbled upon;
it is forged,
and the fire is within
I search. I seek
But the vision flickers, blurred
I twist the lens,
and still
shadows
Uncertainty clings like fog
I gather tools, collect,
but they slip through me
Still I wander outward,
afraid of the silence inside
And yet
when I dare to look within
beneath the noise and doubt,
I see the abyss
A dark well
holding only the ghost
of what could be
But somewhere, in that hollow,
a glint
Not yet gold,
a speck of shine
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