Fighting handfuls of tiresome nights The plight of tossing and turning takes a yielding turn to my mind
Such repression pillows over my face
Reminiscent of earlier drawn into a daze
I exhale conscious inhale dreams begin a lovely pace and appeared
Upon the Subconscious
Guest in a house of woes and love without a mortgage with stories that fill books

What is it to be lonely?
Does one get to a point where one's own presence become something to loathe?
Is it odd not to not to ache from this solitude?
I have heart grand amouts, but in those moments of silence and desolation.
I thrive in thought halting this worlds motion until the fading light if my vision cease.
Enveloped by what seems like darkness and stereotypical loneliness.
I feel more,
I see more.

We are seas apart it seems
even sitting across each other.
We sail into rooms the same
hoping the Sun is risen.
Blinding as ever,
so this endeavor is not in vain.
So when we lock gazes there is no escape.
The pull is just as awing as the star
strong enough to pull these rafts
and drown us in these seas together.

When diving into my gaze immediate purgatory is immanent, understand the pressure is immense. 
Acknowledge this compression to the Earth. Imagine it made you feel more than a single scorch coal. 
Understand this heavy glare was seeing you for the jewel that you are.
You refracted light and casting sudden exodus to my darkest corners.
For the moment understood the twinkle in my eye, was you.

I'd phrase it as that I am trying to feed.
A man has to eat, eat.
When you take seat in a self placed aybss.
The only light burning is the one you reminisce.
Now days in front a furnace,
trying to resist the creeping darker forces.
Running you south, deeper down the forest.
Leading to your bliss and remaining torment.