My hearts true longing

My hearts true longing

My chest is often tight; I blame it on the heat. 
Yet I know it is more than that, this little bit of pain,
for my soul is what is obscured in covers high,
smothering so much hidden beneath;
no wonder at times I feel that I can’t breathe.

Below the anger in large waves hammering,
images bright with its aggressive ponderings,
I sense walls of fear hard as granite
keeping what lies beneath hidden deeply.

Anxieties trembling, seeking the threat that is not there
is the worst for it belies my sense of control,
for it points to the shaky foundation of all I see as strong.

It is not more anger that lies below, but sorrow deeply slumbering,
waiting for me to enter its embrace to take me deeper in,
to what lies beyond the rage, anger and anxious concerns.

I sense within the dry sands of my soul, at times a tear of moisture waiting;
yet when I reach, it disappears, as it always does below the burning sands,
and I dig and seek but nowhere to be found.

O God, why am I still in my own prison made,
so strongly built and walls thick and high,
will I ever be free to truly find my hearts true longing,
in a world that satisfies not?