They say no man is happy who is not dead
I say where pain does not exist life will then end
For what is remembered are the scars we wear
Even as our joy is preserved in the faces of our children
I wonder of all the moments spent waiting for a moment
A moment of joy in order to bear the moments that sting
We sleep, wait and relieve ourselves constantly
If but for these times to gather what would it bring?
You ask life to come closer but why can you not approach first?
What eyes of blindness can see without opening to face your fears?
What ill will towards those who hurt you can transform your bitterness
When believing in the unseen is felt in the promise of never-ending years?
What is buried and silent cannot bring wisdom or joy, only wistfulness
The dream said their voices are screaming the answers yet I hear only the wind
Within fantasy’s martyrdom I watch as her beauty strips itself before me
While an awakening rooster crows once more as I deny what reality did send
There is no time except in the instant neither recorded or upon which we wait
Who can deny the courage of a man who finds room for another blemish?
There is no life without pain and no pain without love
Whether it happens as imagined is no matter except what happens before it is finished