Impenetrable Tragedy
December 12, 2009
The strokes of pain.
Splattered mess of delusion.
Paint as red as blood can be.
No one can tell,
tell what it is.
No one sees the face,
the face that has been created.
This small mystery of life,
is scratched lines on a rock,
deciphered never.
The answer is hidden.
As if behind a tinted window.
Forbidden to be known.
As bright as the shinning sun.
It wants to be the one.
The one that is seen,
but it is farther than perceived,
an impenetrable tragedy.
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