Somewhere inside is screaming.

I stand on the edge of a revolution.
Will I be the first to jump?
Forget all selfish desires to become the savior of men?

I stand on the line between trust and unrest.
Deciding the fate of billions,
Reveling in my dreams, but destroying them for others.

I stand in the chasm of decision and inaction.
Crying aloud: "BUT I MUST BE BEAUTIFUL!"
Grasping the hands of tiny children destined to know my truth.

Destined to know my bitterness.
Destined to know if they are worth my vanity.

I stand outside the gate glaring at the open window.
Glaring as it closes slowly and consummates my eternity and my life.
Feeling the disappointment crying down from the heavens.
Using those holy tears to tarnish my iniquity.
"She had so much potential," they all say.

I stand between my past and my future.
Wondering if I should step forward or back
and leave behind all of that sorrow
and make my life what I wish it would be.

Like Augustine.

Or maybe just settle for a good listener
who understands what is told
and does anything to complete that task.

Yeah. That's the life that suits me.
But when shall I open my ears instead of my eyes?
Realizing it's not in the earthquake or fire that I'll find you.
But in the quiet.