No Healing Touch
How can you tell without even a word
Not a single thought, even absurd
Can make a difference, or ever be heard
In the quiet not real, but maybe preferred
The kindest gift, no gift at all but treason
To lay before me all that is ugly with reason
And turn slowly my thoughts, in ragged cohesion
No healing touch has warmed this cold season
The world turns on rules that are broken
Yet, I sink to the bottom, my words unspoken
To think that once my voice was more than a token
Even when my pain cried out, not a soul was awoken
Do not follow my path as I have walked into hell
Though I am new to its shores I remember it well
Even my burning flesh cannot break the ungodly spell
I am left alone without words and no story to tell
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