Lost
Round, round, turn round again
Looking for horizons on the edge of the world
And finding none.
Just this vast mirror-flat sea of nothing,
An arching vault above casting back the same.
Disquiet, unease, rising uncertainty and confusion
Each feeding upon the other leading up the path
To bleak despair.
Lost.
I am lost, deprived of signs and signposts,
Signals and directions.
No map, no guiding star, no charts, no compass.
Neither up nor down, no east nor west.
With entrance from womb to death’s sure exit
There has always been a path
That leads to here and goes to there.
One that starts from then,
Goes on to who-knows-where
Briefly pausing at now.
Lost.
All gone. No sail. No ship. No rudder.
No anchor. No sea. No sky. No stars.
Hands outstretched, finding nothing to hold
Because a madman with evil intent
Was given permission, our permission,
To rampage among the children
Taking all they had, all we had,
Leaving the world in darkness, grief and sorrow.
Now I am lost.
Lost.
There are no longer any certainties,
No sureties in this wicked world.
Un-moored from once-safe harbour and set adrift.
No sextant, no compass, no map
To tell what lies ahead or behind.
All humanity robbed when the children were slain.
Lost.
