depression casts a dim light
when tears fail to come
except in nighttime shadows
it is great sorrow my repressed thoughts come forward
no longer able to imagine they have purpose
dressing them in fancy clothes and calling them fantasy
when I feel sometimes suffering lacks purpose
toiling in time's narrow view
my truths becomes irrelevant
not magically shifting into wisdom
there seems to be a gap between knowledge and understanding
the more I know the less I get
exchanging innocence to be muddied by the world
feeling ignorant for holding hope and yet I still do
Rated for Mature(17+)
irrevelant
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Summary:
dreams
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