Why I Write

Why do I write?
Who listens to me?
Who is my audience
Squinting to see?
In the dark abyss they sit.
Desperate, helpless, hopeless
Yearning for relief
For just a little bit
Destroyed by life's circumstance,
Fate's ceaseless woe.
They hungrily seek a flicker,
A direction in which to go.
A beam in the pure pitch
Of endless night.
Something.
Some word or phrase
Or liberating insight.
They crave salvation from their deepest malaise,
A measure of redemption from long tedious days.
Knowledge Truth
So as not to upbraid,
"It gives us strangely little aid."
So, they stumble upon me.
Me and my life.
Me, a fellow sojourner
Like then, forlorn,
But mercifully afforded refuge
From life's powerful storms.