Feel No Remorse

Speechless, some would say

Happiness, the optimists bray

Sadness, chorus the bulk

Emptiness, a few would sulk

But I say it’s all

Because how could one just call

The end a speechless thing?

There are so many things to sing

Odes and chants and even a sweet lullaby.

Happy doesn’t work, so don’t say that lie

How could one be joyful after the war

All the losses and tragedies that strike the core.

Sadness, the entity of death, can’t be all that you see

There are new beginnings to be

And journeys to be made.

Emptiness is the coward’s charade

Hiding in the shadows without a trace of sound

Ignoring the colors and how the world goes round.

The end is many words

All different types of fluttering birds

Different thoughts and different people

Like a millions possibilities for a ripple.

It’s a splash in the pond of knowledge

That cuts down the world’s hedge

Hiding the answer.

Perhaps my definition, ever so wiser

Of the end is more accurate:

Never lose yourself in the rut

That goes by the name Remorse.

It tears you apart

Until you only have your heart

That drags you down to demise.

It hides in a crafty disguise

Waiting to grab and eat you.

Remorse is a thing to rue

For what was meant to happen will

And by regretting you can’t help to kill

The person that you really were.

Whether you call them habit or lure

More or less

Speechless, Happiness, Sadness, and Emptiness

All are the same song

Yet so completely wrong.

(...)

A/N: Hope you liked it!