Perhaps, there is a story…
Behind every tear
A long-forgotten insecurity…
Behind every nightmare
Maybe, peace never had a chance
In the haze of our lust
Poetry butchered…
In our desire to be there first
Did we hear them?
Words that came from beyond the wall…
From men who flirted with insanity
For, we drove them there…
It is perhaps a madman’s rambling…
Irresponsible and unimportant
While, we look towards bloody sunrises…
But, never cease to hide from ourselves…
Where are we all running away…
What are we running towards…
I pause to seek you…
But, the crowd carries me forward…
I search…
I don’t know what…
I cry…
But, I am not sad
Maybe, there’s a story
Somewhere, deep inside…
But, let it be untold…
For, now it’s a little goodbye
