Lost, distraught,
caught in between notes of a slow solemn song.
Curbed, unsure,
blurry brush strokes, a palette of somber blue hues.
Why can't I be so sure,
looking forward? I can't afford the toll
it takes on me.
Looking backward? I don't deserve all
that's been given to me.
Tell me, is it strange
the words calm and calamity share so much the same?
Is it me, or is it strange
the way calm and calamity are so much the same?
I know I’m strange,
but is it only me who feels this way?
