To End in Sorrow
Must everything I do lead to sorrow?
Are all my roads fated to the same destination?
I've seen first hand what happens in all matters of the heart.
Society know what it's doing: little rules that add up to apprehension and cold
fear.
"Fear is the mind killer."
From fear, all other things, great and small, are destroyed.
Things that could be are destroyed before realization by the mind killer.
Is love truly so complex as to let a little fear hinder it?
Once I asked myself that, and all I got was a few words.
What meaning have words when without love?
None.
Yet I sit here and write these words,
Begging for love, I know it will work.
But, what is this that holds me back?
A fear of opening up to another human?
Or fear that she might listen but not hear me.
It is pointless, sitting here.
In Fear.
Suffocating me with every chance.
© 2001 thomas busbee