Point the way please, my eyes are clouded. 

It happens before I know it. 

Which way is the wind blowing?

What is my course?

The black cloud obscures my landmarks sometimes, causing me to drift. 

Questioning, I search for direction. 

Where am I?

Who am I?

Who do I try to be?

At times, hopes and dreams are so fleeting. 

At times I just want to be led. 

Tiring, I just want to sleep. 

Not to decide, not to discern. 

While walking, I awaken and choose my way, hoping to keep pointing straight the next time my eyes are clouded.