I don’t want to stick out like a weed in a field of wildflowers

But it is only me that I have ever truly known

My shortcomings glisten vibrantly compared to the momentary frustration felt toward others

I cannot carry anyone else to the grave except myself

But it wasn’t only pain that was guaranteed at birth

Forgotten serenity can be like a jumpscare on hallowed nights where the veil is torn and the original essence is remembered

But in between it always seems that the adversary has claimed lordship over these lands

Oh how the tyrant sings once the humans are all asleep in waking life

It’s always a siren’s song that is let loose from the moment of anticipation

Leading me into a grotto of ambiguous notions that would cut deep if only my skin were not made of scales

Wake me up when the moon no longer covers the sun

The village will not be fed until then

At first the darkness was welcomed, but now the fields are untended due to the lack of light

A community cannot thrive on knowledge and insight alone

Somebody has to reap the harvest

The physical world mocks the monuments of human imagination

Until they are brought together yet again and the poles of this gaping pit cease to resent the observers of all that was ever known