Unbeknownst

Not enough

Of the world

Seems to know

Who I am

And admittedly I

Do not know

Where I stand

When sometimes

As I make my way

Out of the door

I can not help but question

Whatever so for

Do I move but a muscle

Lift even a finger

And in contemplation

Let idle thoughts linger

Just like in the Devil's

Workshop

Where I stop

On occasion

To tinker the clock

Ticking down

Further down

To the depths where I drown

In the frigid finality's

Hole in the ground

Ever has it been my

Extrication from this

My escape from this place

My eternal death wish

And I'd sooner grant it

For myself

But I fear

Such a yearning to end

Will someday disappear

When I find

What it is

I am meant to discover

In this life,

The next,

Or the arms of a lover