We, Tautology
Here, where all things burn
When finally we learn how we could never be enough
These tears shed for the empty years
Such searing pain is all remembering
She sang a song of sorrow
Like Cassandra before dead ears and hollow eyes
Doomed, destined, fated, lost, frustrated by her empty cries
Fears incomprehensible, unmitigated
Now created
We, who would not listen
We, too busy with our reasoning
And heedless of the path we followed
Ignorant of its origin or destination
Hollowed, carved our souls into oblivion
And claimed that Truth must truly lie therein
Within a void, self-made
Is it really we who have betrayed ourselves into this new oblivion
Have we made, from this ash and from this dust, a frame of nothingness
A canvas, blank, unset with stars we'd hoped so desperately to find
Stars which we knew could never be defined
Is truth so pure a thing as this
Pervading emptiness
A trust that we can grasp a thing
So infinite
A void
Which never ends
Are we to be left with
What we had
When we began
She sings songs of the morrow
Of the dawn we wish that we could see
When sorrow blurs these empty eyes
We tried so hard to fall so far
Now here we are
Blind eyes turned toward
These starlit skies
Copyright © Natsirt Nav Neram | Year Posted 2005
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