Void of regular emotion Young become zombies to life Isolation a given confinement Self-torcher for insight. No one knows the adversary Or understands… It’s different now Because reality is what we pretend. Ghosts walk the halls, movies and games Solving the next mystery And deciding who to blame. . . Then causing new misery In order to wake up or wise Without maturity of consequence Or the ability to reverse time. So absent of future And certainty of death- Merely the sake of forgiveness Only after true regret.
Ashes to the ground Before tossed by wind Never what was But path made again… Life so tangled When destroyed but together Like the worn map Or lost buried treasure… Proof is beyond Noon or now Within the nuance Or a Will somehow… For in the loss Or changing scheme Lies a purpose Beyond what it means… Life is a cycle That never truly ends No matter how altered More to impend… So often absent In the course of our lives- To stop and wonder The gift being alive.