Why is it that
I hold the spirit
of one long since dead?
Of an era gone by,
where the grey winds
have erased the last trace.

Here in the harsh fake light,
my cheeks must reflect an evil sheen.
Yet in front of this machine,
I spend my everyday,
wasting the youth bestowed upon me.

Where be some human
to speak these thoughts
and cry such silent tears?
Instead a white screen records
the etching
in the cavern of my heart.

God has shown me
a world of fantasy and beauty,
that comes in my mind,
in my imagination,
yet I have not the talent
to enlighten the world around me.

A world that
no one understands
and no one can share.
In this solitude,
I hold tenderly spirit
of one long since dead.
In a world not my own,
I can only drift
until some the wind
has swept me aside as well.