is there someone who can explain this to me?

this intricate scheme; this thick, twisting plot,

the thundering quiet, these gentle killing blows?

who can flick a match,
and throw light into the dark?

this dark that is not black, or white;

but gray.

shifting shades of uncertainty

creep around the corners of my eyes,

and running in this maze gets you nowhere

except more lost.

so is there someone who can pick me up,

carry me away; put the weight off my legs that

have been strong for so long?

legs that have wandered countless miles

chasing a wistful mind.

maybe there is no one.

maybe we are all lost to this sea of madness,

all wandering travelers on an unfair, merciless road,

waiting for another to throw light into the confused dark.

but if we are all waiting, then no one is left

to see through these shades of gray.

maybe when i was younger,

peeking through iron zoo bars,

the zebra stripes that hurt my eyes

were a trick of the light—

or rather, the dark.