Nepenthe.

Unpublished Works, © 1999, BillyPauleyJr.*

Nepenthe.

It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That finds us on our knees,
It’s the long and lonely silence,
It’s our superficial needs,
There’s a crying child within us,
Whom we spoilt for nothing less,
Than the prize we tho’t was waiting,
Which was squandered in the quest,

It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That serves our vengeful ways,
It’s the anger, it’s the spitefulness,
Controlled in younger days,
It’s the sinful vices lurking,
Pleading madly for a chance,
It’s our overbearing urges,
Calling music to the dance,

It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That claims so many souls,
It’s rapacious exploration,
It’s the digging for the gold,
Where hearts are thusly broken,
In multiples of two,
We dare throw down the gauntlet,
In the residence of fools,

It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That unveils our mortal flaw,
Our inability to controvert,
The love we haven’t lost,
It’s the sadness while in waiting,
It’s the truth while in disgust,
It’s the cognizance of perfidy,
That casts us in the dust,

It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That will claim our very life,
It’s the irony, from which it’s bred,
That calls us to our plight,
It’s the frailty of our spirit,
It’s desire to self-escape,
It’s the certainty of uncertainty,
We do not wish to face,

It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That calls us to our worst,
It’s the prayer that won’t deliver,
When the truth is in reverse,
It’s the wanting, it’s the aching,
It’s the liberating grief,
It’s the search for the nepenthe,
That finds us on our knees.

- WillyToad*

… this is a Smokey the Toad™ production.