Saturday, May 19, 2012

Sorry About That

To make it up, here is a poem.  I guess I was irritated when I wrote it.


Kyrie Eleison

What is the point of having a heart,
A fickle heart that can be crushed by a single tear.
Lost in the world, what tune did you play
when you tried to find your way? 


Did you sing of yourself?  Of the future you aspire?
A you that is greater than yourself.
That weak tune can’t even be admired.
But you are still a child
The song you sing talks of pain
that can only be called mild.

Go on living in your illusion,
Your screams only reach so far
The clear sky may seem nearby
But it is impossible to touch the stars.

The worrying heart worries, that is its only job
What change can take place from that?
Only a vermillion scar, a lethal throb
And the loss of everything you worked at. 

Voices resound in your ears, and you let them affect your mind. 
Stop letting their sorrows become your fears, and just leave the chaos behind.

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