Woe

Scared and angry, confused and forlorn

Bleeding from jagged edges fresh torn.

Wishing to forsake the search for the light

As such things are found so seldom in night.

Wounds that were gained in this hollow place

Pale in comparison, like a drop in a lake.

To sew up these gaping holes once again

Would require much more than a needle or thread.

Could there be a point to this angst riddled race?

Besides playing a role and painting a face.

One thinks, and they hope, and they dream of dreams

Where nightmares are no longer more than they seem.

Shall a day come when these fumes that we breathe

Cleanse and transform to a sweet gentle breeze?

Treading along and not daring to fly

Earth is loyal, and the sky is known to lie.

Fearful when faced with the wrath of the sun

Daybreak reveals things lost when they’re won.

Still yet, the stillness of night can be wily

Luna knows what’s been done and smiles so wryly.

Stars twinkle in casual mirth at our sorrow

Only ceasing their mischief on the break of the ‘morrow.

Circling and spinning, life takes what it will

With naught but a laugh at the blood it will spill.

Will ever a seed come to sprout some new joy?

Is all that we are just the world’s favorite toy?

Surely exists some purpose more fulfilling

Than the faces so faceless in crowds always milling.

Oh where but to search and where but to find

Bliss only happy and compassion only kind.

Love only giving and friendship only true

Warmth only sweet and the cold moments so few.

Does out there exist such an ember or spark

Or do we merely exist and endure in the dark?