Rumored Impulse

O seldom seen soul,
You wrong me with your plight,
You wound me with your fear,
I shall be thy vessel no more,
No longer shall I hold,
Your sightless scent, in my being,
And be called names I cannot defy,
And be reminded of deeds I cannot define.
You, ever elusive,
Precursor of all illusions,
Begone, to the shell; of oblivious wisdom,
Float upon the tumult of torn times,
You are not needed,
To guide me upon this journey.
O Faltering star; to hold you would be a sin,
To leave you, a miracle,
And I choose that improbable, the impossible,
Oasis of existence,
I choose the eternal,
Without quests for questions,
Without angst for answers,
Quite breathes,
Under deep oceans.

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