A Lost Mans Lamentation

A Lost Mans Lamentation.
___________________

My Heart fills with an unexplained sorrow,
as I cast dead eyes on the sleeping form of
innocence.

A small boy wandering somewhere safe in
dreams, with a cherubic half smile fixed upon
his face.

How can something so real become a mere
illusion?..Once the cruel hands of age and
experience grasp it by the neck and squeeze
the sacred life from it?,..destroying this ideal
perfection which was formerly the advocated
topic of  Wise Men, and content Mothers.

I was that Child once. Before Hateful Father
Time worked his wickedry,..showing me an
evil discipline well versed in the morbid arts of
loss and pain!

Now I am a Man. Struggling alone through
the darkness, in constant pursuit of a Grace
which seems impossible to obtain.
__________

Softly now stirs the sleeping form of Innocence
Lost;..A whisper in a cave of screaming voices
who try (in vain) to speak over top of eachother.
Creating incomprehensible Chaos where clarity
was first intended.

Scratch Blind my bleeding eyes to spare me of
this hellish sight!...Or Free Me God!..from my
never-ending decline into this madness shaped
by so many faithless nights!

Hear this Lost Mans Lamentation, and take pity
on a Soul that sold itself to an impossible Ideal
which Perfection itself could never Hope to obtain!

J.Stephen.H.