The silence screams - in the lonely heart - My faith dreams - hold no pleasent thoughts - Is a bad day's dream - still called a night mare? - That silent lack of sound - echoes everywhere - The shadows are shifting - as the day turns to night - there is more to everything - than just the first sight - The moon is rising - the darkness is below - If it embraces me - where shall I go? - Am I spiriling deeper? - Am I going up or down? - This world holds no reason - or anything sound - This rhyme means nothing - but maybe it does - I'm wasting paper - and writing along - It's growing colder - and I can't get warm - Death can come at any time - in any shape or form - I could die this minute - I could die right now - This world will kill me - The second it learns how
I found this single line
in one of my notebooks
I don't remember writing it
but it was in my hand
"We are in a world known for breaking dreams."
I don't know if I created the words
or if I read them once
and wrote them down
but they lay in my notebook
and I must say
reading them in an indiffernt mood
has left me feeling empty and sad
I am failure
I know and I accept this
and today is like yesterday is like tomorrow
only... -alas
I can't stop laughing, but I feel so sad
so tired, so weary, so worn
frustrated beyond the expression of words
"we are in a world known for breaking dreams"
where anythign can be proven
where everything can be justified to someone
How can I understand myself
if the only way I can see me
is from my point of view
or
the backward reflection of a mirror?
How can I ever understand someone else
If I can never rest my head on their neck
and
fully see their point of view
instead of only hearing them explain
and
try to interpret it in my mind?
No one can ever tell everything
no matter how hard they may try
What is it to be truely afraid?
am I all alone?
I think I am in a way you can't comprehend
what is left of me?
nothing, nothing at all
July 6th 2002
(A side note: I still have half a cup of coffee left)