we all need a little calamity now and then,
something to make it sweet,
a bit of drama upon which to hold,
an excuse for everything we are not,
nor never shall be;
all that can be said,
about everything there is to say;
this thought,
these words,
mean nothing,
in a world full of nothing,
dead corpses strewn about
shallow roadside graves,
wandering alone
through dark and dead dreams,
mindless zombies lying
broken and afraid,
breathing foul, empty air;
no future,
no joy,
no hope;
there are daughters in need of a
father,
wives searching for a husband,
sisters seeking long lost brothers,
grandchildren asking for a grandfather;
there are answers with no
questions,
mysteries without a clue;
you are better off
never knowing who I am,
never knowing what I was,
never knowing where I am going,
you are better off not knowing;
still I hold on,
silently waiting here on the edge,
buried within the dead,
standing on the verge of
mighty, giant breakthroughs,
hiding behind the drama,
only a blink of an eye away;
will not the dawn
bring a better tomorrow?
once again You open my eyes,
once again I see the suffering,
the hypocrisy,
the poverty,
the hopelessness,
once again I feel the sadness,
the mercy,
the compassion,
once again,
I rise;
these are not words,
this is not art,
this is not life,
this is not death;
this is all there is;
hard to run,
when you can never be sure
what you are running from,
hard to hide when there
is nothing worth hiding,
every time you win,
you lose,
whenever you think
it is enough,
it rarely ever is,
hidden away,
inside dark, unknown caverns,
answers are left
standing,
monsters with minds
of their own;
you cannot run from dreams,
they know who you are,
they see where you have been,
they know just where you will be;
never ending,
never alone,
never enough.
.
.
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