The Never-borne Tears

A story of empty
Has once filled my life,
A list of disasters,
These all filled with plight:

Best friends never leave you,
The ones you hold dear.
Until they’re run off,
Then passes slow year.

Then, I see happiness.
And she looks away,
Is this what is meant
By a lover's dismay?

I hear terrible screams.
The voice in my head,
My conscience hath died.
The stench, this I dread.

My hands, they are sore.
Both beaten and bound,
My blind hands cross lines.
The guard's mace, come down.

No one can notice,
The blood in its shade.
Those whom I show,
Will offer no aid.

My mind filled with smoke,
I can't see a thing.
I am confused.
Am I nothing?

I prepare for impact,
But no shield will suffice.
I'm left with a gash,
Two one's on a dice.

I lay in my sleep.
I turn silently.
I think about life.
No comfort I see.

But—then, I wonder -
If it's really there,
The blood on the floor,
The empty of air.

I turn on the light,
And turn off the shade.
The blood isn't there?
Were the stains never made?

The friends by my side,
Without but a care.
I find my soul.
I find it there.

The hunger refreshed,
The emptiness filled,
I can lay down now.
I can sleep still.

And I say good bye,
To this phantom of fears.
Good bye to depression,
The never-borne tears!