Bust

I hope the day finally comes when I have my wish granted.
I can't wait til the day arrives and this infernal nonsense my soul desires is finally met with the lackluster it deserves.
In that moment, I hope it realizes it's all been for nought.
Another dashed dream for the pile already on fire.
Another bright star burned out in the dimming twilight that is reality.
Another bust in a bubble I once felt destined for definition.
No more foolish childlike nonsense.
No more unreachable illogical fantasy to chase after.
Eight long years.
Eight years of a screaming desire that I know not what it accomplishes but to make me feel as if I am overboard in the sea of insanity.
It's been eight pleading years since Great Spirit breathed upon me visions and sown into me these feelings.
Showed me your face.
Your spirit.
Pulled back the veil I never asked for and gave me the gift of foresight.
But for what purpose?
To chase in a circle of confusion at whether I am simply deranged
Or if I should believe wholeheartedly in this calling - this destiny - at which you have orchestrated to have me fulfill?
Nightly, you rip me from by slumber in the early morning hours:
Heart racing.
Blood pumping.
Soul screaming to meet my purpose.
And yet, many moons have passed and seasons changed with nothing to prove that this is path is true.
You call to me in my dreams, asking what it is I wait for and the only answer I can give is you.
Creator, I am tired and weary of chasing shadows.
I pray the day finally comes where I prove to be useful.
For the day that it doesn't, I'll know it's all been a lie.
I'll finally know I've just been insane.