(no subject)
Sardonic
The cogs now turn and the heart may yearn but no more does it burn.
A hack and a cough as the body frees its congestion,
Step back and scoff while I watch your indignation, your frustration,
The path may turn, but with each step I learn as my feet begin to burn.
Four walls and no door is how you keep yourself safe and sure,
But while you cry the only voice is that which echoes from the floor.
Upon this precipice I sit, hand waiting, and you stand, wanting and debating,
No more am I chasing, soon I wont be waiting as my patience is abating.
A sweet satire we three see, as the words you spoke unto me repeat:
“You're quite the emotional wreck aren't you,” I don't deny it as true,
But we sight and confess and work through many a tribulation you wont do,
Why is it such a pain for you to be; why must you keep your feelings discreet?
Stark is the similarity of you and I, and stark is the difference in that I will cry.
Hark the stupidity of my past sighs, and hark the sufferance of each lie.
Yet heed you wont my advice, wont participate and will suffer in time.
Letting this story unfold twice, each articulate differently by the authors' rhyme.
My path is ahead, yours is behind,
And as you tread, you shall find,
The darkness in the sky you unwind.