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"...