Always gestured, never spoken.
Left to dream, alone unwoken.

Finally together, this love will last!
Much effort and time, did not come fast.

Dreary day, soft slumber I make,
But what just happened, was I awake?

That time of night, that lovely orange glow.
A Streetlight can warm the soul, don't you know?
Who reckoned that cold wires, metal, glass
Could comfort one with a sight like hot brass?
The ***** yearn of the flame mimicked there,
This soft, sweet, and supple light comes to bear.
The sun does not compare, it only blinds.
As for headlights, to me similar finds.
The daunting nature of the traffic lights,
Wishes only to control the good nights.
On top of my cliff these radiant stars,
Do uplift and burn these sullen hearts ours.
For white and blue lights do nothing but be,
These orange Streetlights do so elate me.

What house is this, that creeks and moans?
Sadness filled, echoed pallid groans.
Bemused ignorant emotion loans,
To sad dejected violent tones.

What house is this, thoughtless emotions blinded?
At first thought we, but never-minded.
Past residence lost, hopes been grinded.  
Remembered again forgotten reminded.

What house is this, that sealed our fate?
When finally caught on, we were too late.
Never alone, perpetually in this state.
Lost, trapped like the rest in this house we must wait.

This life is a mysterious one,
Happy, sadness, boredom, fun.

So many people walk this earth,
Yet lonely isolation weighs over mirth.

When lonesome desires cross my mind,
It's a faithful companion I wish to find.

Yet when company sounds an irksome tone,
I wish to leave and be all alone.

The justness of justice has lost it's touch,
From past important impressions it made,
Internal ethics, humanity as such,
From my moral compass begins to fade.

What's fair is fair, but life is not,
Noone ever said that it would be,
I'll do what I want, that's what I've got,
Is the attitude of the world it seems to me.

The obsitnante emotion brings us pain,
It removes the bond that brings us together,
If allowed this bond will continue to wain,
And soon enough our lives will sever.

With bleak hopes lingering in the past,
There is no reason for me to change,
With the world in terrible turmoil so fast,
Being selfless never seemed so strange.

Its coming and going,
These feelings are slowing.

The rain continues more,
The water in constant pour.

In this room drowned in desolation,
Meager comfort the only consolation.

I think of who these people are,
Unfamiliar lives and minds by far.

Asking questions till lips curled,
Will not be able to change their world.

Unsure if I am willing or able,
This is real life, not some fable.

I do what I can devoid of bliss,
What sobering living consists of this.