My primitive mind seeks knowledge of the unknown
My selfish deeds seek condolence of thine heart
My weary thoughts know nothing of remorse.....
The unknown is something I have not found,
The feeling of selflessness, love, and happiness....
Thine heart is made of glass, it will shatter when it beats.
I have not found yet, what it seeks......
I will not feel the shatter of glass when blood is shed,
not even when eye's of thine heart listens to the dead......
The only time there is a feeling of dread, is when I know "I" am dead.....
The dead feel nothing of remorse or love.....
They are only searching for the one killed......shed the blood.....
Maybe it was thine self?
Or was is the dark shadow lingering around my grave?
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Labels: dark, detached, emotion, emotional, haunt, lonely, meaning, poem, poetry