In Transit

Doors closing, knobs stuck.
Windows creaking, gasping for air,
A sound of promise, a sound of scare.

Stepping into the sun,
Scars and beauty for all to see.
Gazing into the mirror,
Who am I meant to be?

Green, grey, tinges of red,
Some smoke, more fire.
To where am I being lead?
Is it my heart or my head?

I miss you, Silence
With your blanket of warmth and steady gaze.
Luck has seized your place
With its flashes of light,
As I seek you out in a pointless maze.

Leaves pass by, their destinies fulfilled.
Will I always be roaming and uncertain like tomorrow?
Or will I reach my stop,
And like ink on paper, forever be stilled.