I seek for that which cannot be found,
To that mystery my heart has always been bound,
I strain my senses, but there's no vision or sound,
Everything just seems to go round and round.

Oh, when will I learn,
To stop to yearn...
And yet for that my heart burns,
And up and down, left and right I turn.

I look, I don't see,
I touch, but I don't feel,
I have no chains, and yet not free,
I laugh, but there's so much concealed.

I begin to doubt it's existence,
But maybe that's my conclusion...

To keep seeking, but not finding...

*That which cannot be found...

DIE

You silently dropped me this word when you *left

Just falling in the dark,
It feels, light somehow you know...
It started with a stroll in the park,
An innocent attraction to the promise of something permanent...

Just falling down, light headed,
The walls, rich with colour and beauty at first...
It started with a movie and a kiss,
A total willingness to surrender, too tired being alone anymore...

Still falling,
The colour and majesty, the feeling of flying,
All a familiarity now, no change, no initiative...
To grip those walls and stay, to feel grounded to that beauty...

And falling faster, I reach out,
Trying to catch hold, to stop dropping like a stone...
It started when you moved away and this had to be long distance,
But the walls became greasier, oilier, and my palms just slipped...

The rich colour, a jumbled mess,
Of oil, colours, all dripping down the walls like grease..
That was when we became too busy for each other...
I wished the walls could help me out, a stone or two jutting out for me to hold on...

But I fall faster, trying to remember,
Forgetting the solid colours and the light feeling when this started...
But the walls had turned cruel, an elusive mass of stone and grease...
And I hit the ground, hard, painful and broken...

I fell into the pit of love...

I am a wall,
A thick, stone wall,
At least a man,
Surrounded by walls.

I built them myself,
I'm sure it would help,
At least a little,
Those amazing walls.

From the outside it looks grey,
Thick colourless stones of pain,
Of no interest, of desolation,
In total isolation.

But inside, oh wow,
I've painted it with amazing colours,
And those very walls who keep people away,
Comfort me in ways indescribable.

The walls are lined with rich tapestry,
The floors of lush carpets and pillows,
The from the ceilings hang lights,
To illuminate a hundred rooms.

And yet, no one...
No one to share the beauty,
The richness of my inner walls,
The walls I made.

Seductive voices whisper,
And as softly and subtly as the whispers are,
Our screaming consciences as loud as a battle cry,
Are (chosen to be) blocked off completely.

Explicitly voices whisper in my ears,
The voices that we eventually succumb to,
(Well, most of us),
And the excuse:
*"I'm only human."