GOD?

Is this life real? Am I?
I yearn for the possibility
Of being someone else’s dream.
I thirst for love, to be loved, any love.
But I fear that love has forsaken me.

Life is a ridiculous chocolate allegory.
Does Heaven await me?

God?

Why must time flow only onward
And love exists only in my past?

Does hell come in different flavors?
What’s the nature of my soul?

Once, long ago, I seem to recall,
I found what I thought was love,
Tripping over it in a darkened alley
Paved of desperation and rescue.

But was that a dream?
Was it my life?
My agony?
My despair?
My redemption?
My resurrection?

Purgatory is just a tantalizing moment,
Before the inevitable that is the end.

God?

Will tomorrow be better than yesterday?
And what of the end?
Will I love between now and then?

I dream of dreams.
I hear the wind whispering.
I taste the exaltedness of my tears,
The bitterness of my sins,
The tormented sweetness of lost ecstasy,
But they pass, as all things do.

Sentient wandering.
But is it real?

God?