Bitter contemplation slows an aging winter sun.
Weight of selfish indignation, sadness \'till it\'s done.
Each of us an island, blind the moment we were born.
Death bells rung by disposition, all that\'s here forlorn.
Cut our teeth on old embers. They render each point moot.
Cauterize the scars it leaves, cant seem to find the root.
The pendulum that brought us here, also whisks away.
All our lips are out of sync, nothing left to say.
Let me back into the water, the sun and the facade.
Weep for hollow sundries, consumed by whispered fraud.
Single is the anecdote, the moment of collapse,
don\'t understand the metaphor, still discover gaps.
Jumbled mass of opposites defiles my sacred grave,
find a hymn between the space, onto your soul engrave.
A light is hidden, wrapped between unending puzzle,
bathe inside its healing glow, find love inside the struggle.