I can find no solace in
Words we have lost between us again
I can find no justice in these empty feelings;

I can find no comfort lying in my bed alone,
Waiting to hear the haunting scream of a deadened phone,
I cannot whisper “I am fine” to myself.

I am the dandelion, you the rose,
Trapped in silence, a bitter pose
My indifference a sham;

My repulsive words and face of stone
Is only a fake, a mask of bone…
My only way to live with myself,

Is to be free to fly the winds of eternity’s many skies,
Mortality my only boundary I see in my mind,
I am not fine or any semblance of this word.

I am the river that can never look back,
For fear of seeing your reflection intact…
This tainted water only flows forward;

For once only the river can guide me,
For once I only wish I could see
The future, the past, you and me…

Caged, blanketed by guilt and blame
Maybe we can try to feel the same
One day on the river’s edge;

We can sit and be at peace
For ourselves at least,
And view the setting sun into eternity.

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