I wanted it to be different.
I wanted... to feel,
Like I had more in common with the universe above the cloudbreak,
Than with the universe of ash and teeth.
Who now can I blame,
For the sight of a sun?
For the belief that functional warmths give proof to hope of the intangible?
Is there a recourse I can take?
Now everything dark is blanketed in stars.
And everything lost is evermore on profound journey.
And everything alone... surely... it must yet be part of a greater whole?
Is there a menace for my ache?
Be there a justice in its fairest form, to mete upon such brutish, thoughtless, animals?
What curse! What charge was done!
To ever notion thoughts beyond the flame.
What equal payment will I seek?
Upon those who sow such myths to ease their heartache?
I wanted... to feel,
I wanted it to be different.