Music
Music: expression.
For me and the artist.
Or the artist in me.
Restless
I lay in my bed, covers askew,
Tossing and turning,
Shivers then sweat.
Each time I drift,
I awaken again.
I try to relax,
But comfort is fleeting.
At some unknown time,
I fall to sleep.
Yet my brain takes notice,
And drags me away.
I sit up in bed,
Tired…or not?
Wishing, o’ wishing,
I would just sleep.
So I can skip,
This dreadful night,
And be once more,
Immersed in the light.
Yet sleep eludes me,
And here I am,
Crying in silence,
Crying all night.
Tears of frustration,
Tears of begging,
Tears of longing,
Tears for the sought-after truth.
I, Ruination
I, Ruination, reveled.
I reveled in such a way,
That caused me much dismay.
You see, what I ruined,
Was my own mind.
At the time I enjoyed it,
Though I couldn’t say why.
Perhaps I did not know it,
Or turned a blind eye.
Now I look back,
At all that I lost,
And think to myself,
Where my life has gone.
// No comment.
// - Theory