Transitions

I've always been loud, A siren outsider, I've always been proud, Filled with desire. Yet silence seduced me, A quiet holds my soul, Lead by humility, I changed as a whole. Yet while wholly changed, I feel separated, Completely estranged, From who was originally created. My melancholy demeanor, Coupled with anxious mind, Lend hand to a fever, A burning bind. The mask of joy, No longer contorts my face, For it was a lie, a ploy, To garner grace. For a sad man holds no plan, A sad man is a dead seed, Planted in desert sand, Growing, if anything, into a weed.