There once was a time
I carried a bag
tied up on a stick
held aloft like a flag

and into this pouch
my heart was compelled
imprisoned by doctrine
and forced there to dwell

I thought it was safer
to keep it secured
within my worldview
so I was assured

a vagrant was I
with bindle-beliefs
traversing the road
ignoring my grief

but then the bag tore
its seams all asunder
and out spilled my heart
with all of its plunder:

the tears left unwept
from failures and blows
the bitter defeats
the anger and woe

the conflict within
that could not be hid
the struggle long-fought
with vigorous id

I long to march on
in dumb innocence
continue to stuff
my nascent conscience

but there lays my heart
and I cannot leave
it foundering here
in dust while I grieve

the night long endures
with no end in sight
and darkness derides
the concept of light

yet there is a whisper
that bids me be strong
portends after all
a spectacular dawn

and so I sit patient
and wait for release
from this vigil beside
my tattered beliefs.