If you ask who this is,
It's not important.
That a man has a name,
What is its purpose
But recognition?
I don't care about the hate,
But I don't want praise-
Yet, I would hate to leave you in confusion.
The double edged knife,
When the answers hurt us both.
Perhaps it's better not knowing.

I have an answer,
I had one prior to the question-
So, why ask?
I would rather wonder
Than assume to know fact,
Even if I am proven wrong.
Even if it is painful.

I never usually dream,
But I dream of you
And the fact that I do is torturous.
Perhaps, it is punishment
For what my mind perceives as guilt.
And like every poor sod
I wonder,
Do you think of me too?

Spitting up blood;
Living, dying,
What's its worth?
I feel as the Emerald Ash Borer,
Hated by those around me
And stamped upon
Until I am eradicated
Whilst those same people
Attempt to find some use from me
Before I am killed.
These are not loving societies,
Reflected in our treatment of others;
It was very nice to have known all of you.

What will the horizon bring us?
I wonder,
Can you feel my heart?
In dawns of days gone,
In coming eves of twilight;
When I said
I shall always love you,
I meant it.
And days now start
Within a sky where there is no sun,
Within the dark of night, no stars;
Inside of me there is light
All formed from the memories
Of two kids in love, young.
Spiderwebs still entrap
Yet the venom is tapped-
How I wish I was still poisoned.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.