Lost The Beauty

A poem

Lost the beauty

The beauty of breath
No more remains,
What truly is gained?

Sold my coffin to myself,
Gained what felt more
worthwhile than I’d 
let go myself 
Though worth more,
at that moment—

Temporary and deadly.

Lost somewhere in me,
A realization:
An arrow, heavy as iron,
Sharp as a needle,
Creating a thrust,
Perhaps left behind.

That was the beauty!

I saw the mirror, but 
didn’t see, 
not truly—
until it was gone,
Leaving a mark 
I now perceive.

Nothing felt lost.
How could that be?
I thought I never was,
But an illusion it was!

The biggest illusion is being lost,
Without knowing you are.

I am lost I know—

after a while 
When the vehicle
left me on the road 
which was long ago 
known to me
And I saw a shadow
I hadn't seen before.

Now I feel it:
How it truly feels to be lost.

Like a fading star
Distant from God,
Thinking I was close
Until He, too, felt far.

Remembering him in 
need, In times of avarice 
Forgetting in the 
rush, in your 
own heartbeat.

Like a saint in
others' eyes,
But a beast 
in my own.