I don't think that I can find you,
when you're wrapped up in your shell;
when you go inside yourself,
you're demeanor's hard to tell.

I can't sort what's right or wrong,
all I know is, there is trouble;
and I cannot penetrate,
the hardness of your bubble.

You still remain a mystery,
someone, I thought, I knew;
someone I thought I loved,
but now, I can't see through.

You've gone and lost your self again,
a transient to the world;
locked in a web of silence,
no longer seen, unfurled.

I don't think that I can reach you,
to the place where you have gone;
and you've faded in my thoughts,
like an old, forgotten song.