The nights are often the darkest...
Leaving me with questions,
That this shattered heart,
Does not wish to find.
-Answers that I am too painfully aware of-
It's the knowing,
That I believe,
Of these dark, abysmal replies,
That can become so damn sacred,
Onto killing off a broken soul.
For then, I soon realize...
My covers will no longer be the one;
The one that allows me the comfort of,
Containing these absurd, ignorant thoughts,
That my sickened mind insists on telling me that are there.
For example,
Ask yourself this famous question....
"If a tree falls over in a forest,
And no one is around to hear it...
Does it still make a sound?"
There are two idiomatic expressions for this type of answer....
This is how my depression responds:
"You've already fallen...
Nobody heard."
So, I will wait for the break of dawn,
In hopes that the seeking of these answers,
Will be overshadowed by the doubts of my souls fears.
And in return,
Change my hearts broken response to-
"You've already fallen...
Nobody heard.
But my Dear
I think now is a great time,
To speak your true voice."
