What a tragedy it is—
To find love where you are not wanted.
To know peace while waging war.
To be a raging fire—frozen in place.

Oh what a tragedy it is—
—to be whole but forever incomplete.

What a tragedy it is—
To be loved yet still lash out with lust.
To own peace but still hunger for war.
To have absolute control.
—To give up your soul.

Oh what a tragedy it is—
—to think free will the same as freedom.

What a tragedy it is—
To have never tasted love or felt it’s touch.
To be without it’s sparkle and still wander the darkness.
To yearn for something you cannot imagine.
To crave passion and embrace—
Words to describe things you cannot.

Oh what a tragedy it is—
—to know love, only as something you’ve never had.

I wish I could have—
(Whispers to myself)
On days like this when light feels absent.
When even the grey begins to fade.
How easily the mind slips into descent—
(Deaf & Dumb these screams are silence)

Fickle imaginations and unkept dreams,
The empty spaces where sunlight gleams.
Forgotten places where darkness looms.
How often is there such clarity—
When self awareness is acknowledging the chaos.
Questioning sanity.
(The Quiet is Echoing)

Lost but still somehow following—
A break in thought that seems so endless.
How, suddenly, the mind can bend.
(Mute)
Taut and out of shape—bent toward reality,
The darkest shades of anxiety.
Absent of color and stuck in perpetuity—
How infinite a moment could be.
With every sound.
(Repeating silence)
Each touch that’s felt and every taste.
This pain that remembers—
This soul that has witnessed how seamlessly time is replaced.
(Still, I wish I could have...)