these days,

when i can’t manufacture a feeling

and i can fake it no longer

but we still go through the motions

 

these days,

when my heart is heavy like a sandbag

and it aches for something

not knowing what that something is

 

we’re searching

searching with a compass

but we’re reaching, grabbing in the dark

 

these days there is a deep sadness

that blankets the hearts of men

but there is also dignity, and madness

for the hope to which we cling tightly

 

these days there are clouds like freight trains

moving fast overhead

and with them come storms

and flowers

growing wild everywhere

 

these days i cannot hold on tight enough

to the moments that drift quickly away like butterflies

 

these days when i’m just as much to blame as anyone

 

these days,

my eyes both feed me and deceive me

and i am strangled by my own hand

 

these days when all the systems of man fail

yet we still place our hope in folly

 

these days when the wise are foolish, and foolish wise

 

these days while we wait in anguish for redemption

forgetting that we’ve already been redeemed.