We’re waiting and looking around
Probably for a boat, a car, food,home or simply a person,
a savior I suppose.
something to feel safe upon.
something to bulid upon.
a passion maybe? Or a poetry
an inspiration? Or an idealisation
something to keep us running
running from our ownself,
from the sense of chaos
a mind so toppled and unsure that we drift into the mist just to wind back in
forgretting that the very thing we are running from is the only thing that can save us.