Steeled Minds

When oft I lay in idle thought,
Of things, people, thoughts I lack,
Or be in chore or tedious task at hand,
My mind to one vision goes back.

Ah, how maddening it is to loose control,
Of one’s own mind in times of need,
To let it wander in listless pastures,
As gnawing thoughts on sanity do feed.

Repeatedly, persistently, the mind returns,
From lands away or ideals yet unborn,
To haunt mind mine with thought one,
With that one thought, the rest are gone.

No trick of mind or delusion of self,
Dismisses it from conscious state of mind,
Yet laughable it be to think again of it,
And yet of it, I often myself remind.

When path be clear and intent be strong,
And reality appear as brightest day,
Yet in idle ideal fantasies I dwell,
Why, Why does it not go away?

It is pitiful that I for all my thought,
Enslaved I am by manacles known,
To be judged as part of throng and mob,
By mockery and passion is my heart torn.

Though beautiful indeed is that one vision,
And to peals of happiness my heart it sets abeat,
Yet ignore it, I must to my best,
Wrench it away, though difficult be feat.

For afford I can’t to ponder even a while,
For thought to mind brings hope along,
And though lost I be in passions adrift,
At end, to rational mind my thoughts belong.

To long for goal proven elusive,
To know path chosen, having led the way,
Having known and been capable to judge,
How did one such as me get led astray.

Away, I scorn it for fear of control,
When in grasp of fear mine I be,
For one such as me, what is cure?
Is it piteous, Is it pathetic, Is it me?

- Thriddas Anorak

Note : The poem above is only about my mental condition the day it was written, due to an errant recurring thought, about which I believe I have expressed enough, the above was written. I am assuming others would probably know the feeling of some stupid thought in your head which refuses to play ball a la Balaam's Ass....
Any resemblance to any experience the reader has gone through is purely the ways of fate or rather the stupidity of the human brain and one is not to flatter oneself and assume that the above poem had them as a source of inspiration.

Any request or enquiry about what exactly the errant thought was will not be entertained. Not that anybody actually cares, considering no one or rather few know about this blog, but still... the inherent nature of a self-important egomaniac had to show its true worth.

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