One sometimes stops and thinks aloud;
"I am all alone."
"I do not have a someone,
To tell the words I form."
But they forget to whom they speak,
Themself is there to hear.
They themself are someone,
And that someone's very dear.

Rejoice in your own presence,
And the silence that it brings.
It is the purest of them all,
The thoughtfullest of things.
To look into your person,
And pull out honey and grime.
To ponder fully, of all things real,
An introspection of all mankind.

Who ever thought,
The urge to dive,
Into oceans of sorrow,
Would be so prevalent.

To sink into the darkness,
Below the surface,
Of light and life,
And breath in the pain.

And encouraged by no one,
Swim down to the crevice,
Of heartbreak and grief,
Never to return.

I can almost taste it every night,
The freedom, on the tip of my tongue.
I can see the light over fields of green,
Beckoning and pulling to come.

But the winds from the storm always whisper,
A reminder of the chains I must break,
And I answer back, with a laugh and a cry,
Because I've come to love chains by mistake.