The Same

By RDFollendoreIII

Ice,

has carved out my soul.

I sometimes I think that I am going insane

when thoughts in my mind feel cold like winter rain,

so that the sounds I need most feel as false as the words

from those funny ancient children's books of Dick and Jane.

Oh surely you must know that our crazy faith in the eternal flame

is just as empty as the hearts with most whom we once have lain.

We only exhale the thoughts of that which once served our words

and that on each night's refrain feel the swell of wet tears welling,

as though that distant star winkling might somehow place us

on the sharp limits of a black thorn to mankind's distain.

Only we few hear the echoes of the passing of time

and it is that sound of a lonely distant train.

It is that moment's focus of what we are

or perhaps shall become which

somewhere makes us exist

in the losing of light

and the passage of our pain.

For in this world it no longer matters

what you or I have done or what we will become.

It has all come to be about whom we or they chose to frame.

So whisper softly as the these seasons pass and weather patterns change,

such that the dense warm sea evolves the future fate of man and turns Earth

into that most unhealthy and unnatural broth that nature can't tame.

Don't ask too much of me, for I must ask nothing more of fame.

There has been far too much so far for me to choose

and so very very much for me to blame.

The way it feels for now

it doesn't matter,

for the

alternatives

seem pretty much the same.

.