Truthful Ignorance

Seul, a soul alone. One that knows all of the faces of people, but his is left unknown. Blissful ignorance. I envy them. The confidence that they share that was mercifully stricken away from me. Sorrowful truth. A fog rolls in on them, bringing them to the top of their mountain. Some are born for the clouds. The sun shines upon me, beating down on my face, forcing my eyes open to the blinding sorrow. I thank it with a spiteful tongue, for my vision is crystal, and the kings on the mountains will never know the truth. Rooted, I thank the light. On the ground I can see. See the eyes on the ground. Crying. Vision is a curse. More sorrowful truth. Seul, am I alone? Blood stretches miles away, The faces that smiled with me and not just at me, they smile with others now, closing their eyes to me. Am I alone? My eyes search, but the answer to my joy is clouded like the sorrow for those on the mountain. Truthful Ignorance.