Intent-Less

Behind my desk of daily duties I hide obliged,
blind in perceived intent in days debilitating me,
grinding relentless against my need to find meaning…
my bleeding mind leaning against my breaching heart,
preaching intent I cannot grasp.
I gasp for a breath of substance of a sort,
distort in my own demand of dithering paths
like a slithering mole sniffing the trodden ground…
drowning in my intentless surround.
My splotched mind now fired up on a frigid stove,
an imposter, a trove dug up and claimed…
framed as thought the picture of perfect suffering is rule
I plunge…
posing in intent’s pool I seduce my own pseudo smile
and all the while spirit leaks from my soul.
This hovering abandoned hole day in and day out
I’ve filled with doubt of a truth led astray the stars
as hardened scars plow my unburied grave
like the brave face I wear disgraced
my life…
misplaced in this space of intentless surround.