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This Aimless Song

I rake the air,
For the image now gone,
A faded memory,
An unknown treasure,
An unspoken song.
I cling to the pieces of the deed,
But never will a thought be enough,
To conjure life in what had me freed,
That is now my bane,
My wound, my unwanted greed.
I ask for less,
I got it all,
The empty room,
The frigid hands,
I look down the well once filled,
Brimming with tears of the shaky haze,
Of roses red, of passion bright,
When all around was filled with light,
Far gone days, in a daze,
I wagered.
Gone, tossed away,
What I am regurgitated by its own gaze.
I sleep no more, my hunger gone,
When I believed it better for me,
All along.
The blindness blessed,
The morning broke,
Scenes of perdition I alienated and forsook,
Now I clasp a lifeless sound,
That resonates hollowly,
With none around.
I gave it up,
I lost the way.
The joy I had,
Now cast away.
I am now one of them, part of the fray,
None to guide,
No purpose; dismay.
So I seek now a humble home,
To let me in,
To clothe my lone.
Never to take it all away,
What was the sweetest the other day.
But I cast it out,
I shattered the Beauty,
Of that which contemplation cursed me.
So now I wander by the path,
Which I forsook, in my own wrath.
The day is long, and I grow weary,
I wonder if you will ever hear me.
Or if all is lost, all hope is gone,
I am doomed to sing,
This aimless song.

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