To loose what’s once possessed,
even if it is only a temporary visage of happiness,
is saddening.
A spruce of devoid grows,
and even if rationality tells otherwise,
the despondent heart still tries to board an already sinking ship,
dreaming of a fragile fantasy already in shatters.
A courageous journey,
nevertheless so complicated to understand.
Such is the duality of man,
A quality that outputs no reasoning,
Like Sisyphus, rolling the eternal boulder,
Punishment of my original sin.
But perhaps the beauty lies in this abstraction
This concept that is perplexing to common eye,
Yet so genuine under the gaze of the stars.
Anguished, I walk ahead, unconscious and blinded
This is my method of madness.
Comments