"Active Inaction"
I strive for perfection, but find none inside.
My perpetual immobility astounds.
A reluctance to propel myself forward,
The frustration of restriction abounds.
My heart has a fire,
Encased in the ice of the mind.
The desire to be in the forefront,
Incapacitated and left behind.
What lies within offered up on the alter
Of the fear of perception.
A sacrifice to the masses unknown.
A hollowed-out vessel remains as a token,
To be filled with all expectations but my own.
LadyB © 5/10/03 9:55pm