When The Sun Comes Up

Life seems to have direction
But that is an illusion
The operative word is seems
We are always looking for meaning
We are always connecting the dots
We fill in much of what isn't there
Until we create a presumed truth

Why are we happy with the illusion
Why do we feel full on the ego
I have loved half truths
They have satiated me to transparency
And my models while morsels only
Have left me under nourished
And I have come to hunger in my belly

The hunger isn't bad
Really the pain in my belly
Is nothing compared to the truth
In my soul
What is the vector
What is the synthesis
How do I extinguish the fire in my soul