Angst in My Hand

Angst in my hand for something,
Otherwise known to be nothing.
Caught in the disruptive battle,
My own heart part of the rattle.

Angst in my hand that shouldn't be,
Otherwise a fitting play of reality.
Feeling the overwhelming vampant rush,
Common sense carelessly tossed to the brush.

Angst in my hand, instead of serenity,
Knowing that peace shouldn't elude me.
I'm tired of fighting this thing called life.
Wanting elusive answers to end constant strife.

Angst in my hand weighing heavily.
I stand aside waiting so readily.
Raising my burdensome hand to the sky,
Not knowing how to let go, so my soul can fly.

© Riala