Under the Fig

Faith is something that is hard to grasp sometimes

Maybe because we expect it to precede big miracles

Expecting the big to blow the mind of those around

Something to nuke out the doubts that engulf us

Missing the mark is something i do more than I admit

There it is,I said it

Lost myself in chaotic environments, trying to bask in it

Like alcohol, drunk of it

Running a race that never seems to end

A battle with spoils I know not of

Time, a currency I am not sure I spend well

Gasping to breathe , water rushing into my lungs

Was this the original design for life? For it to be this way?

Was it the original design for life to reach a level of being this numb?

Was the original design for life to drop loads of doubt and a pinch of hope?

Was there an original design or is this it?

I feel like I have been running on rusted engines

Moving? Yes but with much more struggles

It feels I am moving too fast yet not moving at all

Like I am in the race but unable to finish it with head up high

I'm more scared than I like to admit

Scared to stop or pause but even more scared to commit

Do I have to stay under a fig tree and yell?

Would that make you see me? Do pray tell.