agentofoblivion

When the night whispers its sullen serenade, when everything but your failure seems to drift and fade
When you can conquer nothing through your cathartic pen, when you are tortured from holding it in
And you run from the sounds that echo in your empty chest, unable to admit and unwilling to confess
And an attempt at play and foolish interaction, of frolicking lifeless to escape all this passion
Is not enough to help you forget what you want to remember, to tear you apart but to dismember
Is crushing you and forcing you to feel, and a promise made to yourself makes it all real
You are left in the silence thinking, completely aware of the madness into which you are sinking
You find a way to ease the tension, to whisper the things that you are so afraid to mention
The friend who helps you as you search your reflection, plunder your feelings with soulless detection
The receiving ear of a distant and kindred observer, knows the sound that floods forth your fervor
Hears your whispers and he understands, does not judge you as you stumble or stand
Hears the truth that you finally admit, and sees the sense that you cant seem to make fit
You reluctantly wonder as he eases your mind, what makes it so easy to stay so blind
Too much thinking and your emotions are flushed, too much doubt and uncertainty to ever trust
Too much thinking and you miss the soft sound, if you do not let this out you are going to drown
When the night whispers its sullen serenade, its time to let everything out and your pain will fade
When you can conquer everything through your confessing pen, you are no longer tortured from holding it in.