My Time Will Come

A poem depicting a spiritual journey into my interior

My Journey began at a pace of leisure
My feet walking slowly along the path, but
This pace lasted shorter then life itself, and
Soon I found myself running, not
Along a lengthy, winding trail, But
On a chilled treadmill of steep inclination
My presence was neither pushing ahead into the future
Nor was it being bore into the past
With the forces of stress and strife
Colliding with that of love and inspiration
Suspending existence into a state of paralysis
Then without warning or permission one side increased speed, and
The treadmill hastened out of control, and
I could not quicken and soon I had fallen, but
An earth surface did not cushion my fall, instead
My endless descent continued
Along the way my character is torn apart
And the shards are glued back together, disoriented
By the people around me
But they cannot define me like I define myself, my time will come,
But for the time being I am the stone in the ocean sinking into eternity