To Feel Or Not To Feel

To feel or not to feel, that is the question: Whether it’s braver, in mind, to endure The mocking and whispers of love, Or to rebel, and grow cold in heart And by becoming so, end pain? To die inside, Feel no more; and by not feeling, to end The heart-ache and a thousand flowing tears That this heart sheds; this, a thing So completely longed for. To die inside, to sleep; To sleep; and then maybe dream; that’s the danger, For in putting feelings to sleep, what dreams May haunt the empty heart and soul, To make me pause: there’s the respect That makes calamity of such a long life; For who would bear the claws and scorns of love; The lover’s wrongs, the haughty upturned nose, The pangs of broken hope, the raging anger, The loss of self and screaming pain, Every useless action of trying to be seen, To end it all by merely becoming complete stone inside? Who would such pain bare, To weep and laugh and scream beneath life, Except for fear of complete emptiness, The darker, far less traveled country Where all is flat and cold, puzzling And so frightening, a guard against ending All the wretched pain inside? And so, the fear of emptiness, of becoming nothing Keeps us a slave to tyrannical Feeling; And so, despite how wearisome it is And no matter how great the desire To feel no more desire, sorrow or love, True human nature continues to prevail, Perpetuating the strong waves of emotion.