Perhaps this sorrow is permanent, I ponder as my mind wanders to seek wonders or just purpose in something, anything,
Trapped by these childlike desires to see beauty in fires and not the chaos that instead they can bring, consuming everything.
Denial of the unknown, security in fires that were blown and beat back and kept calm and disarmed and at bay,
Though they once roared now they're finished, all but completely diminished extinguished as like wind blown away.
The dark they fought back now it hounds and attacks, with my soul as their sparse dreaded pray.
There once was a feast for these dark dreaded beasts, but the worn threads now oh how they fray.
So little by little, my self fragile and brittle, there are more cracks in the walls of my mind,
I am falling away, faster night over day and to reason or will left I am blind.
A stalemate is reached, between beliefs that I preach, and how much further my weak weary soul can go on,
Still I try to find joy, with the whit I deploy, after all permanent sorrow, is lost, when we're gone.