Sparkling, he was sleeping
deep inside
crying out the pain he felt
and letting the world know of his conquers,
but where was the line
where he drifted from the sufferers,
where he bid the grave that called
and let his pain be the salvation.
Sure he had opened the door
to a room happiness never achieves,
and maybe he had pulled through
where most can’t,
but if he would still shout for people unaffected,
if no one heeds and he still bleeds,
than has he ever recovered
or just a cry from a soul that could never.
Emotions turn on you then
when nothing feels alright and people are never enough,
maybe we feel unhappy about ourselves
but it’s people and our expectations of them
that turn to haunt
of the existence we hold and of the prayers we call.
The tears are our standstill
that chains us into an eternity of lies and letdowns
and we never realize of the spark that we all devour
with the wall that we form
aroundus**,
withinus,
prisioning the life we could have
and happiness that gleams through pain.
The journey is like the train
and we are to choose the station
rather than watching the scenery change infinitely
and suffering from a loss
that was never ours.