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In-Search


This,
I know myself.
The line of the frame is clear,
but blurred is all internal depiction.

It is something out of reach somehow,
even though it is born within me, floating out.
Calm but frantic, one but many, in and out of focus,
an impossible search - trying to measure the instrument.

No chance of reconstruction, no hope of analytical satisfaction,
just a disrupted idea of my own awareness and the will to comprehend.
Is there an unseen power practicing obscurantism being a playful puppeteer,
secretly pontificating about the truth of all things, showing me absolutely nothing?
Copyright © 2004 EDJ