soul solitude

solitude,

a hard-sought commodity,

in this empty wasteland

called home,

returning to the places,

where so much was won,

and so much lost,

can be difficult at best,

while fatal at worst,

as realizations become complete,

within empty lives

and hidden words,

where the implications

have long since been lost;

even the past has a price,

demanding fair and

equal payment;

there is so much said,

in these words not spoken,

if only you take the time,

to listen to the silence,

where life is a never ending lesson,

on all the possibilities,

which might have been,

but seldom ever are;

they think that they see,

but it is only an illusion,

created from bits and pieces

of shadow and light,

rolled together to create an image,

which is neither truth

nor lie;

and I drink from their souls,

draining the life inside,

that tomorrow may exist.

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