No-one can leave
lonely and bleak
the outlook remains.

the only way to deal
with the isolation and pain),
though pained I am not

(there is no apparent pain).

I barely know of the affliction
though it troubles me still,
the hardships around me
they confine me and
they force me to face
a grim reality:

the reality of this illusion,
and oh god it’s so real!

Lonely and bleak,
the countenance remains.
Still the only way to approach
this isolation and pain.

Yet, within many,
a song rises up
to fill their hearts.

(Such is the power of impending doom.)

With an insecure peace,
a calm,
a brief smattering of life again.

(such is the power of a song).

And a song rising up and taking them,
while unmoved, indignified I am.
To sit and to stare
and wonder about all of this,

so mechanical,
so lonely so bleak.

Ha!

Can the power of a song
really move me?

I don’t know.