smokey pallet and sweet melancholy

I sit here,
and the words flow with such ease,
like an undisturbed stream
with waters cold like the winter air.
Melancholy finds me again,
the scars of old aches again.
I embrace melancholy like an old friend,
whom I have forgotten its name,
only for a brief moment,
a moment of naiveté

I have failed yet again,
to find comfort through my own strength.
Perhaps it was wrong
to have started such a challenge to begin with.
Could someone live life like an island?
To find contentment because there are no desires?
The intoxication of a smoky pallet wearies me… …
I must rest.
I think none of logic or rational,
my judgment is clouded only by resentment of so many events past.

Why wait to be excluded
when I could exclude myself first?
The desire for affiliation,
the desire to be revered is like poison
that entices the empty soul.
I yield so very often,
only for regrets to caress me like parental arms
in a forgotten dream.
Perhaps, an island is where I could find sanctuary
from the heartache that is imposed by so many others
……. perhaps,
perhaps………

sweet intoxications finds me….. I must rest……..