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Seven-Story Silver Sorrow
Every once in a while I begin to question what exactly happened to my organization. Where's the direction I once followed? Where was that sunrise that I believed in with all my heart? Where was that prophecy that promised everything anyone could ever ask for? Maybe they're all sleeping, hibernating. Maybe they're dead. Maybe they never were there. Maybe they ran away from me, because I forgot to take care of them. And once there was another guiding light. An entity that promised to take care of me. A pretty face and a comforting smile; We seem to be seperated by ten-thousand miles. I experience a manditory shut-down whenever I feel the slightest negative sensation. I'm on the verge of tears, but all that results is a burning in my eyes.
And there, the faceless figure waits for me. He resides above me, and sees all that I see. Maybe I made him, or maybe he created himself. Either way, he's here to stay, for days upon days upon days. He has no control, but he can whisper, and he knows what I struggle to suppress. He's relentless as I try my damndest to resist. I may invent a state of mind, and I may cry out for attention that I don't really want and never deserved, and I may be on my knees searching desperately for another way under the concrete; but I have never shed blood out of anger, sorrow, pain or passion. My own or that of another. It's true that I'm falling further below, drowing in a sea of my own pathetic emotion, but I feel strong enough to live through the shadows that block the sunlight.
Even if I cannot breathe.
