The Idea of a Broken World

Where Do I Begin.

Into the depths of fog, I deeply gaze,
What have I become, or maybe it's a phase?
Waiting hours without a clearing of haze,
It wouldn't be a stroll, it'd be a maze.

A place Id rather wish to be,
A street where I can actually see.
The consuming mist ran and chased me,
I skipped out but I was not free.

Hope fading like the blue sky,
Light raising, or maybe I need a new eye?
As days grew longer, I started to sigh,
Every opportunity, passing me by.

Confidence lowering, when will this end,
Problems exist that I must tend.
Hopefully it is right around the bend,
Or maybe I'll have to just ascend?

Patience lowering, lift the mist,
Almost ready to put in use; my fist.
Of death and treason, the poisonous kiss,
But it isn't you, of whom I missed.

Eyesight lowering, I am now blind,
This fog will take over all of mankind.
What we had to take over; it was the mind,
To defeat this, there is something we must find.

"We must not find ourselves," he wrote,
I pondered as I was reading this note.
We must not pack our bags, and throw on a coat,
Or fly away, or escape upon a boat.

We must strive to conquer problems to win,
Relentless fighting and we will ridden.
Rid the world of the lies, the sins,
Throwing everything negative into a bin.

There is something you must look for,
And you won't find it by walking out the door.
It is not why you're actions are so poor,
You must find it by excavating into your core.

You cannot ask for a ladder, when there's already a rope,
You cannot deal with your problems, if you don't attempt to cope.
You cannot sit around doing nothing, nothing but mope,
You have to look deep inside your heart, and within find some hope.

As these thought began their journey in my head,
I found myself once again lying In bed.
And I remember another profound statement the note said,
"No problem is impossible to solve, or you'd be dead".