Guilty

This quiet hell. This shattered frame. Never picture perfect, never once.
Unbelieved.
Who ever believed,  
Ever? Was it just me?

I started down this road, alone, yes, yet responsible. I was not afraid. I wondered at the seeds falling, spiraling down from the trees, from the sky. Some were weeds. I turned my face to the sun and believed. I believed it would be a good walk, a good path. I chose well. I deserved it. I earned it. Didn't my suffering earn me some peace - a good, calm walk?

So much happiness lay ahead. Striding along with such purpose, such immature resolve. All our simple needs were met. We were happy and confident. We laughed. I measured progress and knew exactly where we were going. I wondered at the seeds drifting by. The birds made me smile. It was good. It was a good life and that was good enough.

I am lost on this journey. I lost the path. I cannot find my special place. I lost the goodness, lost the hope. I lost the belief that I had suffered enough, that suffering earned me peace. I was punished for this belief. I was too proud and the gods paid attention to me. I enjoyed too much. I believed without question. I looked up too often. I forgot to watch where I was going and so lost my way. Now, the seeds blur my vision. The birds make a racket. They mimic car alarms and clock alarms and harsh, mechanical tools. Have these city birds, too, lost their way?

I am in unfamiliar territory, this quiet hell. But, I am too dramatic. Hell on earth belongs to those who truly suffer, not to those who despair in a shuddering loss of hope. That isn't good enough for hell. I wasn't good enough. I failed. I got lost.

I cannot find my special place. I don't know where I belong. My steps are uneven, unsure. My steps don't take me anywhere. I think I'll just sit down.
I think I'll just sit down and stay here for awhile. Can I make this spot my special place? I want to run away but do I just stay here, unmoving, without hope or progress? Can I just sit in disbelief? Will seeds enough twirl and fall and float by on their purposeful path? Please tell me the call of a hopeful bird, one who has found it's way, can reach me here.