The feeling of need

I need an elaborated explanation about this feeling
Could it anyhow be linked to any of my emotions?
Or is it evoked by the sound that reality makes?
Is there mercy or grace to the man that reality shapes?
Would he live,if from these reality's chains he escapes?
Would he survive the chill in reality's lakes?
My condolences to the man who owns the one that reality fakes
I grieve for he could not survive reality's dangerous quakes
He fell from reality's shakes

This helpless feeling
Could it be from the images that existence gave
Or suffering's signature on the majority's graves,or how I am restricted to the success that my soul craves?
This heart aches from curiosity about this feeling
What happened to the man who has enough?
Because the one I see describes life as being tough
He prays less for life

This feeling of confusion
Why does man fail to reach a convenient level of satisfaction?
Why does he fail to give gratitude to the Master of creation
Because his doom lies in the hands of his desire
His destruction in his desire's conviction
The feeling of need ends when gratitude begins

The mist

You blare my vision
You restrict my sight
Perhaps you blare death's vision towards me
And restrict the evil sight of my enemy
You preserve my soul
You keep my attention away from misery

Now death has ceased it's journey to my soul
And delayed is my enemy's destructive goal
My body,my soul is preserved and whole
Your beauty lies in blaring my vision to fear
Making death's journey not clear
Perhaps in your absence I would not be here
Perhaps you ceased my mind's contamination
By blaring my vision to evil

Only you have knowledge about your purpose
Dignity is in your mysterious presence
And when your purpose is fulfilled
The wind comes and carries you away
Clearing my day
And opening my sight to the world's beauty

A question to life

What makes you keep me?
What makes you protect me?
You also keep my enemy
And all things that stimulate my dark emotions
Death is your conclusion
What stands between is me
Between your misery and delight
And death's unpredictable behavior
I'm the rope in your tuck of war
And I am at a peripheral point of each side
"Is there beauty in death?"
My curiosity asks
"How long will you last?"
This flash questions
My soul is not afraid of neither you nor your opponent
For it is in the hands of the Almighty God.