Village Idiot Publishing (C) 2000 Diary of a Spirit
ABSENCE OF GRATITUDE
Don't you know it hurts inside, when it's without me?
And yet I wait for the day,
When all will be right, when summer is forever,
And spring is a gift which we give to one another.
The dawn of day, With it's bright and shining rays,
How sweet it is, the mist of life.
To open our eyes, to the sight of beauty;
Instead of filth.
But what if beauty is a reality which a few ever see.
I see only what you let me see.
So where is the justification in what you give me to see.
Should I learn from it, or should I pass .
Music tells me that you love me,
And that there is hope for others;
If they seek harmony and balance.
So how can the music exist if pain is all we see.
And yet it goes on into the night,
To lift the hearts of young and old.
Yet the pain bleeds the heart of emotion, until it cannot feel.
But will it be restored again?
Will the music be like magic, and turn the heart around?
Like a funnel filled with love and joy;
Piercing the inner emotions, and restoring the soul.
The madness of it all when does it end?
"In the grave," as they say.
Or when we become full, and overflow with love,
So there can be no pain that can drain it.
Oh the one whom I praise as a hypocrite,
When I'm in love with life.
Then curse when I see the pain,
And feel it as a blade, which rips my flesh into.
For my praises are in vain, and of the flesh.
But there not of thoughts that count,
Which reach into heaven where the Holy one is.
For if my praises would have reached there,
My joy would have spread throughout the world;
So that all men could feel it, and be at peace.
So I wait for my joy to come back to me,
And the desolation to fade into memories.
Never to be remembered again,
Save to remind me of the blessings of life,
When it thrives.