Suffering
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Fragile,MournfulOf the snow that takes shapeOf a man’s crumpled hand,With edgesThat carry him down. Weakened,OvertakenOf the breaking mind,Wallowing in sustenanceToo heavy to hold,Though he walks. BleedingSunrise, into the wastesOf burned fields,Sickened moors,Orchards that loose more applesThan ever he did of sin. Will waterQuenched the starved lips,Reminiscent of a kissNever allowed? Will the moonShow its true
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“Can depression be removed from the life of one who suffers from it? It cannot. It is not anything related to presence. Depression is what a person suffers from, due to absence, just as a wound upon skin is missing flesh and blood.” – Modern Romanticism The average psychiatrist or psychologist, or those who simply
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“How many tears could a man have concealed upon a time when he was hungry, when to soon realize upon his loss that he was only thirsty? A man lives, to drink in what he never felt.” – Modern Romanticism
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“To protect those who are hurting; no, to protect those who have once experienced hurt; no, to protect those who have yet to be hurt further, and that is what is meant to be done, being the final way. See the suffering? See it clear, with your own eyes? Do you cry for it? Do
Modern Romanticism 