These I Want but Dare Not Ask For
Age is a limit I wish to ignore, the passage of time that drags us into the realms of embarrassment and discomfort. What use have I of shame? Of guilt? What use have I of a name that will be drowned by the crushing waves of history, what use have I of a friend who does not walk the same path as I?
Why will I live this life? What ends, what purposes must this predictability achieve. Will I soothe a pain? Will I solve a mystery? What a fickle hope this is. But even with that, what a dull good shall come of such a dull deed. Of living this life. A life I am already regretting.
My world is full of strangers, I am not one to cling to names and shoe sizes, I find myself appraising and re-appraising. I am never satisfied. Life is a street full of strangers rude enough to claim a closeness. But do you know me? Do you know the cruel depths I veil beneath those hollow expressions, would you guess the icicle heart I traded for the one consumed by your humanity? Who will life bring me to meet that will challenge this definition? No one. Not life, not even the mirror can offer me the beauty unmasked, the wisdom sincere.
Hearts truly care, they hurt, and they are pained. Too bad they have a human language. Why was I cursed by this awareness? Why am I unable to break away? My mind haunts me, taunting me with tricks, using baits like idealism and honor and peace. And I let myself be blinded. I will die a blinded creature, a dumb animal who satisfied its base needs while ignoring the terrifying higher call of its nature. I am terrified, I am so terrified to lose everything. As I must. But I am terrified still.
Fear immobilizes inspiration, it mocks the spirit, it rules my soul.
Self-conviction is a strong point I developed, it brought me far, for I traded a destination for its wings. For that, I was lost ever since the day I took off. Dumb... dumb sightless animal. Damn that, the sick pride, the eagerness to please, to dependency on the friend and the family. Damn it all. Damn the illusion of helplessness I hang onto like a boneless leech, and damn the romance that seduced me into this mad, cureless yearning.
The romance which whispers in my ear, tempting me to be the scribe who’ll weave the nonsense tale, the alchemist who’ll discover the profitless gold. I am smitten with it as one would be with a lover. Damn this curse. Damn this obsession. Damn my lack of a time machine, ones such as I should be able to traverse the centuries to the roman times and get clubbed by a horde of Vikings.
Why will I live this life? What ends, what purposes must this predictability achieve. Will I soothe a pain? Will I solve a mystery? What a fickle hope this is. But even with that, what a dull good shall come of such a dull deed. Of living this life. A life I am already regretting.
My world is full of strangers, I am not one to cling to names and shoe sizes, I find myself appraising and re-appraising. I am never satisfied. Life is a street full of strangers rude enough to claim a closeness. But do you know me? Do you know the cruel depths I veil beneath those hollow expressions, would you guess the icicle heart I traded for the one consumed by your humanity? Who will life bring me to meet that will challenge this definition? No one. Not life, not even the mirror can offer me the beauty unmasked, the wisdom sincere.
Hearts truly care, they hurt, and they are pained. Too bad they have a human language. Why was I cursed by this awareness? Why am I unable to break away? My mind haunts me, taunting me with tricks, using baits like idealism and honor and peace. And I let myself be blinded. I will die a blinded creature, a dumb animal who satisfied its base needs while ignoring the terrifying higher call of its nature. I am terrified, I am so terrified to lose everything. As I must. But I am terrified still.
Fear immobilizes inspiration, it mocks the spirit, it rules my soul.
Self-conviction is a strong point I developed, it brought me far, for I traded a destination for its wings. For that, I was lost ever since the day I took off. Dumb... dumb sightless animal. Damn that, the sick pride, the eagerness to please, to dependency on the friend and the family. Damn it all. Damn the illusion of helplessness I hang onto like a boneless leech, and damn the romance that seduced me into this mad, cureless yearning.
The romance which whispers in my ear, tempting me to be the scribe who’ll weave the nonsense tale, the alchemist who’ll discover the profitless gold. I am smitten with it as one would be with a lover. Damn this curse. Damn this obsession. Damn my lack of a time machine, ones such as I should be able to traverse the centuries to the roman times and get clubbed by a horde of Vikings.