Pen

How many letters have i written filled with meaningless emotion. That none can understand and most time half-forgotten, They seem like so many dreams that fall to short from glory, That all I can say, Is please do not read, These words have no sense. Their meaning has been lost in translation. the sound of the horn is as clear as a bell. But it music seems not to want to be written. The confusion I feel flows to this paper. Leaving heart and soul out, Without even a whimper. All is left is my mind which does not understand. So I buried my pen in the shifting sand, Buried it deep so none may find the torturious beast, Within its innocent illusion. The illusion that is torn away to reveal our pain. So clear as a bell. So I hide it away so no one can find it. Yet it is still there waiting for me, That horror.