Letras
I am the iota, the fragile reminder
The most meager piece, a fragment enduring
The left behind and carried forth
But this scrap is empty, hardly the strongest
Still standing for it could endure
I am like chaff, a reed that is bruised
The smoldering flax and flickering wick
I'm utterly hollow - devoid not pious
The one who has tasted and can't be restored
As if some descendant of my very self
I roam and scrounge and fight for life
A shard of some former glory
I scavenge in search of reason, motive or cause
Any old morsel that I might feast
Or begin laying a brick upon
But what's unearthed is nothingness
The all-encompassing nullity
What do I think I will uncover?
What do I expect to change?
Survival driven by pain and fear
In efforts to save the helpless soul
Answers itself to nothing at all
A suspect of gravest suspicion
And therein lies the great dilemma
Might death provide the only rest?
But I cannot cause myself to sleep
The inmost always tends to err on the side of life
Enduring through existence often seems to me
An ailing and crippling fixation
True life one cannot be freed from
But rather, somehow, freed into