All these years, that I spend:
Away from the path of the norm,
searching out what may never be found,
Digging and climbing to hidden caverns,
Falling from cliffs upon mountains high.
In the dark of the lighted room,
Questioning the answers before me,
Answering the questions not here,
Confounding the link of spirit and mind.
Alone in humanity's overcrowded jungle,
Struggling to find others in the maze,
Tangled and stuck to the dying trees,
Taunting myself into believing this way.
Are these the wasted years they speak about?