Eyes wearily hardened,
all the times I've begun,
to be blinded,
to be fooled,
to touch
the sun.
I know something real,
something I cannot find,
like the image burned in my mind,
that I've chased countless times.
But nothing aligned,
to this perfection defined,
not even the one,
who made this design.
And I found...
clearly traced in the vibrant colors,
of the stormiest of
days,
in the depths of a shadow,
sheltered from the sun's gaze.
where honesty and truth,
torn
open with pain.
pretenses of light,
melt in the rain.
Where pain and pleasure,
moved exactly
the same,
no will to fight,
no power to strain,
something was lost,
but something was gained.
No light could replace,
this empty space,
that radiated on it's own,
when nothing remained.
