So I sit here silently and still

So I sit here silently and still
Lacking much in heart and thrill
Our company is mixed
My eyes are fixed
On a point on the wall
Caring very little at all
For the atmosphere around
So I sit and stare
And perhaps hear a sound
But none can compare
To this somber sentiment

I play a roll
And hold a rank
And raise my glass
And take a drink
Once was I fond of it here
Once I think

But now
Less fond I feel
And more a fraud
It is perhaps somewhat odd
That I did once love it here
How very queer
Twas once quaint and charming
Yet not so now

I begin to see another path
Not far from here
A future not so far ahead
And I oft but wonder
Where it will lead

I am too much caught up in
My desires and my sin
That I let them shut me in
And all the world out
Alas I seem to doubt
What life was once
All about

At times all strength is gone
I care not to sing its song
For sorrow doth carry on
And what little joy may prolong
There are but a few drops left
To quench my calm

So all is quiet
And I once again engage the darkness
Though it is cold and dismal
It holds the comfort of solitude
Where I can cast away the world
For an hour or a day

And none may look in
While I rage and wrench
Within my ravaging sin
Here are no kin
Just me and it
I covet it
This crazed thing
But it doth no joy to me bring

All satisfaction is gone
And only the addict
A mere shard of humanity remains
Searching for but a few scraps
Of that once initial fix

But it hath stolen
His soul
And taken control
It plays the whore
That craves for more
And sucks as a sycophant
Till it seizes the last exhalation of life

And as it draws its last gleam of life
It ponders on its path and plight
How once it did delight
In all of life
Till it gave its soul
To the sorcerer's control
And never regained
Its personal role
All was lost
And such a cost

Oh that wisdom's plead
Would somehow bleed
A little life once more
Into this tortured existence
That perchance
This pilgrim
Might journey
Out from this shroud of existence
And into a life of meaning
Where hopes and longings are fulfilled
In the heart and hand of the one who willed
That all space and time should be stilled
As He saw fit
While all the world
In His craftsmanship were knit
To make such a thing of it
That He would
Give so much
To a race that cared so little
For its Creator
And King
He would give it all
Though it would cost Him everything
That they may one day return
To that which their hearts
Did once burn

-Joshua Lee Foist