Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Why my Cruel...



Why the distance, why the connection? Why the waiting, why guilt, why passion? Why the mind plays such cruel games with this fragile body? Why the longing, why misery, why loneliness?


I would say it is you, but the fault was always mine. I would say it wasn’t you and the fault would still be mine. Why put blame, I ask, why at all? But the blame has to be someone’s, the suffering was true. The fault has to be some place, for peace needs to be found.

Why say nothing, I ask, why say anything? When anything you say or anything I do makes not the past right or the future bright. Why need wails like the wind, why it exists? Why should I be the one to make things right? Only question is right, answers always wrong.

Why not be simple, I ask, why not forgive and forget? But what makes the point so wrong is the distance that stills time. Why confuse, I ask, why hang on to illusions? When right can be wrong and wrong can be right, why ask, why judge?  

But I ask still. I demand. The fault must be mine and the cruelty too. So twisted, so unforgiving, the mind, she asks not for truth, not peace, but an illusion of the present. 

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