Smoke

What made us hungry for our own destruction?
A strange disease that makes us lose our function?
Or was it pain that aching came to claim our bones?
Or is the truth that truly we could never know?

We sit in smoke filled bathrooms, hiding
Until we, damaged, find the pain subsiding,
No one to judge our worth or fitness
These shortened lifespans linger as our witness

These bottles, emptied, die to fill us
Till we're convinced nothing could kill us
Invincible: a ghost at whom we grasp
It slips away despite how hard we clasp

Desires seem to waste the life away
A tainted fee that every dreamer pays
And when we wake from dreams, we tend to see
We've nearly lost ourselves entirely

So back into our dreams we dare to go
To lose our minds and more than we could know
For peace and quiet, refuge from despair
We wander till we're caught by age's snare

And in his snare, we wither and we die
We gaze in wretched torment at how "I"
"I had the world and wasted it in pain
I followed dreams, now nothing else remains."

- Obscure
© 2021