Passing by the cramming of seared pathways
Sobering up to the acceptance of apparent haze
Looking for nothing beyond or within the horizon
Should I be quiet or let the sun blaze from the frozen?
Listening to the tinkles of forgotten cacophony
Blocking away the mundane tunes of many
Yearning notes not written in any composition
Should I allow my ears to be audible in motion?
Sensing a sense of bitter-sweet heartaches profound
Feelings buried away along dark mileposts bound
Should I allow my sensitivities to take birth again,
And my Heart to live its real course, and Rise again?