The Oasis to the Ocean

At times I feel as if all my pleasure in life stems from my own anguish.. I relish in my own ashes..  build beautiful chains and locks to my heart made with love and detail.. yet somehow it seems like the keys are never in my hands.. I lurk in the shadows, move silently through the pages of life, searching endlessly for the Oasis of my deserted mercy, yet there seems to never be an Oasis that does not come with a price.. So I bear the tax of the Oasis until my body relapses to a state of grim and my mind is inebriated with ill thought.. after the well has run dry I often ponder the question, is the tax of the Oasis worth the long and disjointed path I take to get there? My answer only seems to reveal itself in the solitude of my next endeavor and realizing that bearing a tax of an Oasis  through desolate segments will only make the journey to your ocean invaluable..