A part has moved to the heights of joy

A part stays there in the 4D space.

The fourth dimension of pain and suffering

With me, for eternity, that pain stays.

I still go back and visit that moment

The lines etched on my body forever.

The blood did dry, but I didn't escape
That betrayal leaves my body never.

For the few times that I dream of escaping

There are people to bring me right there.

Because they know nothing else will hurt

The only red spot in an oft broken heart.

The disappointment, dragging its heavy feet,
As it wades through years of sinful thought.
The arrogance sticks; makes motion difficult
As the feet sink deep into the thoughtlessness.

We grow up, and then we stop growing
Our world seems right; their always wrong.
Is it disillusionment or superciliousness,
That keeps us sinking in unchanging stupor.

How can we ever stop growing as men?
How can the intellect stand still and gloat?
Might we not as well wilt and die?
Or wait, has the process already begun?

Hope. Hope. Hope. What exactly do I hope for?
That people won't change and they will all be good?
That something will happen and misery will end?
Or that my solitary voice will one day be understood?

Not people. They, thankfully, change and evolve.
Not circumstances. Their change brings excitement.
Not misery. They make me appreciate the joy.
The hope is for for a better, stronger me.

Win some, only to lose some
The half-filled glass of antiquity.
The dejection, the joy that follows
The two sides of the gambler's coin.

Like a swing in perennial motion
Accelerates, decelerates and stops.
Nobody has a grasp, nobody ever will
On the uncertainty we call life.

To make joy while the sun shines,
To be content, yet always desirous.
Somewhere in the middle my path lies
If only it could be clearly seen.

The winds have stopped being breezy
The chirrup of the birds long gone.
I walk alone, into the quiet sunset
As if we had never met.

The memories still hang on inside me
But like inanimate objects of remorse
The life is gone, forever, out of them
As if we had never met.

The cold is biting; words frozen
On this white, uninteresting landscape
The sun hidden by brooding clouds
The river silent like a deathly druid.

The near horizon equally silent
Voices from the past in perennial echo.
Yet the spirit within, it strengthens it grows
Over time, to finally wilt and die.

How I wish the shadow would go
A companion through sun and rain.
Yet dark and brooding; silently howling
Like a constant screeching sound, jarring.

How I wish it would tear apart
Chart its own destiny, it's own path.
Perhaps meet its new master someday
How I wish the shadow just goes away.

When it goes, the days shall be lonely.
The sound gone; silence will explode.
The explosion might kill; so be it.
For the shadow will kill anyway.

You've grown up, but still a child
Cradled in destiny's iron hands
Twisted, agonized by tumultuous time
Amazed, silenced by the great unknown.

The highest peak you reach
Is still dwarfed by history's greatness;
Is still insufficient to satiate the future
Is still just not enough for the present.

You've come far, but still a child
Crying yourself to sleep every night.
Still in a dreamy world, sleepless;
You still know nothing. It's empty.

The constant chipping sound I always hear
Long-held friendships in permanent decay.
With certainty, like the swinging pendulum
Every day becomes a lesson in drudgery.

You wonder where the dead end lies
When perhaps finally a break will appear.
But this togetherness of joy and pain
Will never break, never.

The path of truth, so full of undeserved pain.

Innocuous sacrifices become efforts in vain.

To be labelled and to have judgments passed

Has become my present; a gift from the past.

There was always something to gain, and to lose

Some to please; some whose paths were crossed.

Every pain, joy and judgement that came my way

Has become part of me; a gift from my past.