When in the dark I rest my spirit
I find there is no bliss,
Just time to heal the damage that’s been done
Time for me to escape the “feel”.
When you are a prisoner to the world of words and feelings
There is no real release.
Instead every ounce of your being is consumed and tortured
Just like a prisoner waiting for his sentence to be handed down.
I rest but, yet I am still tortured
Tempted by the “why’s “and what “if’s”.
I don’t know how others do it,
Leaving things to settle and finally being free.
I think I will forever remain incumbered by these things that consume me.