Emotional Blackouts
Laying here alone, has moved me into hope,
That what follows not having, is actually having of more.
Cold as the icy mountains freezing in the bitter day,
And as warm as lava flooding down her side.
Part of the day sings of the love behind your eyes,
The rest is a ghostlike memory that cripples my heart.
Panic at the lack of faith kills all of my passion,
Where no life, no thought of recovery exists in time.
Calamity brings a certainty of troubled days to come,
When all could, should, would have been glorious wonderment.
Standing here on my lonely hill, fighting tears hurting more,
I fall under the dread not believing strongly enough.
And I wake in the dew, arranged as the dead,
Fighting to rise, what for, why carry on not being led?
And in your expectancy I desire to be all and more,
But find I have not predicted the falling away of my floor.
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