I Give Up

I’ve walked a line many years between the darkness and the light.

Yea, but now I lie prostrate beneath a waxing crescent moon.

For the veil has been rent; I’ve seen too much, too much… too soon.

I give up, for no one really and truly understands.

Scoffers abound; mockers arise haughty unto a temporal rule.

Hasten do they now the exit of the “crying fool”.

“Naysayer”; “delusional”; “a few bricks shy”.

Alas, no more for much change stands at mans door.

Never afore like this dream, and never to but simply be.

So to this which sees beneath the coldness of a winter’s moon.

To this, I close my eyes to let be what will be.

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J. Allen Wilson © 1- 200?