Homo cogitat, Deu indicat

I feel I shall implode or evaporate. The complexities of my thoughts are enigmatic and sullen, intense and quiet. There are no tears, no, and no words to express my mood. I do not want to analyze it nor do I want to fall into the black cloud that awaits. Many things are running through my mind, many so quickly they could never be captured. How I long for the calm of the past few weeks. I have begun a poem (as all decidedly tortured souls do) but it is thus far 3 lines:

I sigh into you,
A deep caress of the soul outbound
Entering the flesh of the world in near-silence

That is all and anything more would be forced. So here I am typing away to myself in search of...what? A drop of wisdom...a theory...some type of viewpoint to cling to? Or do I simply need to save myself or calm my mind? Winds and torrential rain, damp earth, and the scent of the past. This and nothing more. All that is. The earth and the sky, the music of lightning, of worms moving through soil...

How I wonder what it would be like to be a more simple person...to crave less, to cherish more. To accept the 'lot' given and not be driven, ceaselessly driven to be more, to give more, to live more. To not have bouts of existential angst.

And two more lines:

I sigh into you,
A deep caress of the soul outbound
Entering the flesh of the world in near-silence,
A potent mist embalmed, a forgotten shadow
Dedicated to fields of glory, blood-stained.

This too shall pass.

Homo cogitat, Deu indicat

Don't ever forget it.