Without Motive

All the searching was not pointless,

But was without destination.

All the learning created thoughts and memory,

But did not bring me peace;

Rather, the hunger increased.

 

All the lovers brought experience,

To each other, but, like a lit candle, could not sustain itself.

All the suffering, did not produce meaning,

But rather fortitude, reinforcing the ego.

 

Only surrender gave me something,

As I looked desperately for meaning.

For the one within me,

And it too failed, through too much desire.

 

Now, my desire neutered,

I find myself placed, awaiting …

Nothing.

It has won.

 

So I contemplate nothingness, and wallow in my lack of purposefulness,

To determine if this is not another destination,

A dark night of the soul,

On my journey.

 

Or if I am home, and this is it. Being.

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