Going back and forth.
Feeling without feeling.
There is depth all around,
Or emotional connections.
It is hard to see at times.
We claim for our doom.
We clamor and dream.
Yet a simple spread of love would do.
A many a wonder.
We live envied lives.
Yet we cannot see any trees.
A simple dream.
So distant and melodramatic.
I cry in my sleep.
There are no sheep.
A systematic sweep of all that I see.
Are we really so different when we speak?
Or when we dream?
Are we of one race?
Of one species?
Then how do you see?
When you speak?
The sounds are different,
But the meaning is the same.
I wonder.
If you wonder.
A trembling in the darkness of night.
A soft spoken rose.
So there is grace.
Happiness and kindness.
A spread of love,
And a feeling of respect.
We can draft all these,
Or I can sing a ballad.
Undivided our hearts content.
Unyielding in this mutual desire:
Contentment and peace.
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