A rage,a feeling,a want.
Something is missing.
Unknown,undefined emotions
prick you from within.
You try to draw,you try to write,
in hope that something will give
and you will at last see what you know.
The world seems mad,
the world seems out of balance,
what is right?
what is wrong?
Every sun has to set,
but then it is at its hottest at noon.
Does the sun suffer?
Why do we suffer,from heat?
Why should we alone feel,
that we see the mundane
and not the important?
What are we missing?
Why hasn't anyone noticed it?
We can stop it can't we?
Why,why all this?
Questions.Yet unnamed.
It refuses to be named,
and so remains pure and unnamed.
Why care?
What is happening!
why?
why?
why,this feeling ?
why this pain,which cannot be defined?
What should i see?
Where am i to see?
who should i see?
Where is the source of life?
What is eternal
and what is mortal?
Who said so?
So what?
what matters?
Why this feeling of profound suffering?
Why this unnecessary illusion?
Why what is it trying to cover?
