The Solace of Imagination


You can cut out a tongue, but still not silence the voice. The cruelty of fate to exist so blindly in a world so full of misjudgment. Tears flow for years like rivers of madness. Sad songs of sorrow to plague the endless silence with melancholy. Deeply forlorn, the internal ache seems to find every moment a grand adventure. Where is the freedom of the light at the end of the tunnel? Oh how unfair is fate, to create such invisible depths of despair with no freedom to release the flow of crimson. To feel such solitude among the stars is a strange sadness unable to be repaired. Time is so slow, yet the most deep injustice is in seeking the release. The ebb and flow of changing seasons brings hope of better days. Without seeing the color beyond the cold shadows of winter, frozen time remains the only reality. Shatter the glass and fly away into the dreams of darkness, among the solace of imagination...