Unlike the flowers in the field
Or the trees within the grove
Loneliness is the crop I yield
Surrounded by many, yet still I rove

For flowers have fields of friends
An abundance of varied bloom
Beautifully blossomed at their ends
Loved for their perfume

Trees breathe life into the air
Magnificent and tall
Capturing all the eyes that stare
And mourned for when they fall

These thoughtless trees and silent herbs
Seem to be more loved than I
Like forgotten trashed kicked to the curbs
My purpose isn't worth the cry

I feel aimless in the wind today
Like a ship without a sail
Perhaps tomorrow that feeling shall flutter away
But today, no purpose seems to avail.

Even if
You may be the faintest flower
You shall always be
Beautiful to me

Not to be too macabre
But here I am in my own head again
With the haunting realization
That if you think of the most painful
Most gruesome way
Someone has suffered
It is likely
That it has happened on this earth
Am I the only one who thinks this way?
As I sit here pondering about death?
I realize and put it into words
To think that someone out there
Right now
Is suffering the most unimaginable pain

And I feel worthless for a moment
For I can do nothing to assuage their suffering
How pitiful I feel
For I cannot help them
How miserable I am, that even if I was there
Could I help them?

Suffering is a haunting song
With tones of rhythmic chaos
Created by our own acts
Created by others actions
But here I sit, unable to do anything at all

But if we could rid the world of suffering
And never have to worry about the nameless
The helpless and hurting people
What would be willing to give up
Would we give it up?
And now I wonder what is more wretched
That people suffer and I can do nothing
Or the question of if we could stop suffering
And give up all we had
In totale
Would we?

He cared so much it consumed him
Moderation was not in his creed
He sacrificed his soul and limb
To attain the goal to forever be freed

He cared so much it killed him
So much so he became a wretch
A villain in the story
Fixated on the stretch

He cared so much to help the world
But in the end he was seduced
Addicted to his plan unfurled
To a scoundrel he was reduced.

There's something inside of me
And I'm afraid of what I see
It matters not how it came to be
For I am here, For I am me

I cannot turn away from its glare
It's piercing eyes and slanted stare
I look inside my sins laid bare
These muted lies I dare not share

The broken glass of a shattered soul
A gaping void and endless hole
I sit awake at night, as the weight takes its toll
Searing pains like scorched coal

A wasteland sprawls across my war torn heart
Where no mans land has torn apart
And wiped away the canvas art
No longer sweet but bitter and ****

I see something inside of me
And it's too hard to admit you see
For when I turn away to break free
I see a world as bleak as me

Until we feel the softest rains
And sand between our toes
Till we see our breath on morning days
Or taste the wind that gently blows

Until we smell the earthy dew
Or feel the pebbles in our grasp
Till the lightning flashes through
Till the leaves all fall at last

Until the sparrow sings its final song
Or the wisteria finally blooms
Until we face the moon for long
We shall be fearful of what looms