This world of ours
How wonderful it must look to you
Those who see the world
Some see the world Blue
Some see the world Green
Some see the world Red
And then there are those
Who see it Black and White
Not quite Color as much as absence
Many colors have come and gone
None have caught my light.
This world of mine
Lived in Grey
Not even a color
But a shade.
This road leads so many paths
But why do I never choose
A road that will to an end?
How I long for that road,
The way the thought caresses my heart.
But I always travel the path
Which seems to give me most pain.
Is the choice truly mine?
The paths laid open all differ
Each road marred with use
Each road with its own view
Each road without fault
The road taken may not be preordained
But I always know what road I will take.
The only comfort is
That all roads lead home.
A faded mirror
In which the features are blurred
Indefinite
Details scattered to be pieced together
Jagged pieces fail to fit
Perhaps never to be solved
The need for the recollection
Craving the completion
The wish for the completed picture
Never was failure so complete
To bring back that which was gone
The need for redemption
The solution to the shame
To repair what was broken
But what was lost
Was something that could not be found
The details elude me
The features incomplete
The picture indefinite
This created suffering
This allowed in shame
This caused pain
For in that mirror
That image once held dear
Was the face of my Father.
If death was not as final
Life would not be such a burden.
We would not have to worry
On temporal troubles.
Life would not hurt so much
If we did not always pick our scars.
Our wounds would heal and
Lessons be learned.
Never again would we grieve
For those we once held close.
But never would we grow
If death was not as final.
How it torments me,
With it there
How it looms above me
It’s pale figure
Reminding me of my debts.
How it comforts me,
With it there
Never leaving me lonely
Unearthly beauty
Sharing in what I have earned.
How great it’s being
How grand it’s presence
Why does it follow me so?
Never in the light
A welcome guest
For he never leaves.
A wish to love in every way possible
But if only I could
For my mind had innocence
And for the love in mind was not held in innocence.
The love of the innocent was that of a sibling
There was a facet of love that couldn't be given
At least not given by I
Perhaps then, it was not love to give.
This world of ours
How wonderful it must look to you
Those who see the world
Some see the world Blue
Some see the world Green
Some see the world Red
And then there are those
Who see it Black and White
Not quite Color as much as absence
Many colors have come and gone
None have caught my light.
This world of mine
Lived in Grey
Not even a color
But a shade.
This road leads so many paths
But why do I never choose
A road that will to an end?
How I long for that road,
The way the thought caresses my heart.
But I always travel the path
Which seems to give me most pain.
Is the choice truly mine?
The paths laid open all differ
Each road marred with use
Each road with its own view
Each road without fault
The road taken may not be preordained
But I always know what road I will take.
The only comfort is
That all roads lead home.
A faded mirror
In which the features are blurred
Indefinite
Details scattered to be pieced together
Jagged pieces fail to fit
Perhaps never to be solved
The need for the recollection
Craving the completion
The wish for the completed picture
Never was failure so complete
To bring back that which was gone
The need for redemption
The solution to the shame
To repair what was broken
But what was lost
Was something that could not be found
The details elude me
The features incomplete
The picture indefinite
This created suffering
This allowed in shame
This caused pain
For in that mirror
That image once held dear
Was the face of my Father.
If death was not as final
Life would not be such a burden.
We would not have to worry
On temporal troubles.
Life would not hurt so much
If we did not always pick our scars.
Our wounds would heal and
Lessons be learned.
Never again would we grieve
For those we once held close.
But never would we grow
If death was not as final.
How it torments me,
With it there
How it looms above me
It’s pale figure
Reminding me of my debts.
How it comforts me,
With it there
Never leaving me lonely
Unearthly beauty
Sharing in what I have earned.
How great it’s being
How grand it’s presence
Why does it follow me so?
Never in the light
A welcome guest
For he never leaves.
A wish to love in every way possible
But if only I could
For my mind had innocence
And for the love in mind was not held in innocence.
The love of the innocent was that of a sibling
There was a facet of love that couldn't be given
At least not given by I
Perhaps then, it was not love to give.
Should more things from my past come here to be seen?
Sometime I feel only current thoughts matter.
Not sure.
Less of organized ideas, more ranting than anything.
I will give the idea a few days to sit.
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