V
Silent views left to crumble
into dust and pain
quiet distances mumble
about things left in vain
our empty beginnings
like thoughts trapped in stain
nothing more than excuses believing
themselves beautiful just the same
than a distant view's reflections
of minds left to mull and maim
VI
cold meandering ways
a nomadic existence lays
lost, separate from the crowds
screaming with their angry little mouths
they hurt everything the know
deep, down to the soul
quietly bleeding, quietly screaming
quietly seething, quietly dreaming
of thing of love and no (less) loss
times of beauty and serenity
mixed in with harsh melodies
creating symphonies, building beauty
yet still losing sanity...
