Conscious soul.

Conscious soul.

Does it know

Which way to go

In the dark

Is there a needle

At my heart

Pointing north

A sharp stab of pain

Now and again

Would seem to say so

Tearing at my soul

Whenever I stray

From some hidden way.

The brightest lights

Lie just out of reach

No matter how far I lean

The pain shoots through

Pulling me short

Holding me to the line

I must not cross

Though the temptation remains

A carrot on a stick

Dangled in front of my nose

If I’m not careful

I will stub my toes

On the root

I might become,

Fall into a ditch

Roll into bramble

Scramble through thorns

Pulling at my skin

Tearing at my eyes.

It is no surprise when

Brought to heel

Stood on an even keel

Prodded forward

In the right direction

The needle pointed northward

Leading me on

Directing me forward

To what must await

The beating heart

The tortured soul

Negotiating a fine line

Between two points

Of difference

Not so very far apart

In compass

But a world away in kind.