Bring forth the wounded—they’re already here.
Gain solace from the weak, they’re all so sincere.
Misplace those who seem to vanish from your minds.
Pretend to act astonished—your memory’s declined.
Why must we all counter our attacks?
Never is there a way to pulverize your subtext.
Hiding behind our walls, doors hinged and windows nailed;
behind such masses of frame peace could’ve prevailed.
Acceptance overwrought, we stroll on through the night,
doubting conversations and darting from the moonlight.
Questions fit the mood and despair follows after—
don’t we all miss the days lightly filled with laughter.
Ethereal for good, the fallen one’s cry,
yet still there is amiss a reason as to why.
The necessity to die fits unmistakably and true—
surely seems to be some convoluted pseudo-proof.
Far from evil and wild chaos of thought,
the lonely one’s misery already fought,
we imagine where else his soul just might be,
and await our arrival so, so readily.
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