The Art of Suffering

My pain still dreams of ways to breathe Its methodical plans never seem to leave Like frozen hatred spread through time In the past and the future where I try to hide Still unrelenting in this light I’d blindfold myself only to give it sight So unrelenting in its cause So jealous of things that I have now lost All of these words discard my need For the quiet repentance has become disease Much more the sufferer of my thirst For the silence I found has strengthened my curse Still in the wake of all I am With every door I unlock I lose another hand So distant to the sky I see Yet every door I’ve unlocked has shown the sky is me This pain will always find a way No matter where I can hide it will have its say Like burning music in my mind Where everything that I hear is just the hurt inside