Maze Meandering

I live in a maze of meandering mental musings,
sometimes utterly lost and wanting to scream,
bruised and scarred, confused and driven to extreme,
while holding a white flag to surrender
though not able to truly identify
my actual enemies or where the war took place.

There’s a library in my head,
with so much time I’ve spent hiding there
reading books about courage and virtue
though often lacking both.

It has wall paper that dances
possessed by the images of all the things I’ve never been.
One has an image of a huge cathedral
because somewhere in the mist of it all
heaven still lingers in my brain.

Inside I keep falling down the swirling mass of chaos,
which has its opening in that library
and it takes me everywhere
except to an exit to reality.

My heart languishes in this twisting of my emotions
just feeling like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz
when she was caught up in that tornado.

Only I don’t land in Oz,
there are no munchkins there or witches,
merely more of the dark strange lands
that my imagination and fears spin together
where I keep wandering as a vagabond
sometimes feeling so alone and filled with sadness
because there is no passage to paradise,
though God does appear in the fog and smoke
as He grants me enough reason to breathe
so I keep on moving to no where defined.