Loss of touch

Oh burning passion of intensity of experience

the star which once glowed above my head

has been slowly dissolved by the status quo

where once I could touch the face of divinity

now I scream within my own head

the passion is far from dead

but it has been manipulated

there is an unease within me that does not sleep

all across the spectrum I go

be it simple angst or full blown mortal terror

yet like air feeding a smoldering burn which refuses to die

it is that unrest that sustains me

that which makes me myself.