Loneliness,
The echoes of your own voice falling off the walls,
Spilling into the murky nothingness, pooling up in the halls.
Fleeting laughter echoing as if trapped in a shoebox on a shelf,
Hardly reflecting the soulful emotions from whence it came.
The constant struggles of indifference, to be apart, separate.
Fleeting sanity of one's feelings gone awry,
Plunged into wave after wave of constant submission to the world's utter chaos.
Where is the light at the end of the tunnel?
Where is this cloud's silver lining?
Does it go on?
Endless days, endless nights,
Drifting in the limbo of a constant reality?
The things which brought such comfort have become such a chore,
Chores such burdens.
Is it but vanity?
This foolish insanity,
To search for what cannot be found?
This vain attempt to live ones life to the fullest,
But to what alternative?
To lie in submission to this world's constant drudgery?
One must have hope,
To smile another day,
To breathe the air,
To smell the flowers.
Let the sun shine warmly upon your face.
Let your tears fall free without a trace.
Let them bleed away the pain,
Like the dust washed away by the soft summer rain.
Set your yearning heart free upon the world,
To discover the unknown,
To know the breeze upon which it's blown,
To at last know the seeds it's sown.
Together we're all alone.
D.W. Peterson ©1995
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