The Unattainable

Is it so wrong, to want the unattainable?
To strive for that something, so distant
Longing to sample the sweet nectar of the forbidden fruit

My thoughts are as twisted as the demented spider that weaved them into their sinuous strands
My wish, my hope; to find the panacea that will revoke this insanity that has been unwittingly bestowed upon my wavering heart
Oh, to find that wondrously perfect fruit from the highest branch!

All the other fruit in the tree could not quench my desire for the unattainable

If only I was tall enough to reach for the prize!
If only the prize hadn't already been won!
Then I could discover what it is like to be blissfully happy

Striving for the unattainable, so futile
Yet I continue to hope for that fairy-tale ending that will never come, for it can never start

I gather the pieces of my shattered heart from the cluttered floor, cutting my hands on the razored fragments

What kind of happiness can I hope for, when my own heart causes me such pain?
What kind of life can I live for, when I am slowly going insane?

I need someone to show me the life that is worth living
I have been blinded by pain and torment, too blind to see the light

This pen lays down my emotions with its' ink
My mind shows its' emotions with yet another drink
This pen, so beautifully it writes, with its' black ink
Still I wonder if red is really the color I seek

I can't let it end this way
I am moving on, to see another shining day

Is it my insatiable love of struggle that makes me this way?
Or is it the want of something better that relentlessly tortures my stranded soul?