I must tell you, dear friend,
When disappointment comes knocking at your door,
There’s little else you can do
But accept it like a precious gift,
And keep it with you,
Hidden for fear of losing it.
Yet always secretly hope you forget the hiding place,
Like a lost key to a door
Behind which you find your darkest fears.
When the play of shadows magnify
Your buried disillusionment,
Softly whisper to yourself,
That they are but a shadow,
Of a life you once had.
A life you chose to leave behind.
For our disenchantments are a figment,
A mere projection of our present,
Taken from the past, striving to survive to the future.
Infinite Joy is sad,
But Infinite Sorrow beautiful.