Silence Collector
The heart of Man is a collector of tragedy
Our souls deceive their own kin
Hamartia is our downfall
As we tumble, into Oblivion
The sons of Man coerce their cases
Of gain, loss and fevered dreams
We are vexed in the silence--
Searching for Jacob's ladder
We are never free--
From Lust, or Love, or lack thereof
Many are silently waiting to die
While many others already have
We are not free from our own hands
Even in the most intrepid endeavors:
"My conscience is clear--
But, that does not make me innocent"...
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