Fuddle

The sobriety of the delusions that surround us,
Among the chaos that sound beside me,
Of a hundred men making a redundant fuss,
The shadows of death is all that we see.

Within the sanity, a voice can be heared,
Within us, though, silence clings on to be,
And, we laugh at a love that we cherised upon a time,
The joke, the humor is all I can see.

But, hold me one more time, just once my heart,
Let the light fade as we all vanish into darkness,
And, the shadows of those men overtake our sobs,
As we cower into the disparity we harnessed.

Know what I am - yes, that is all that counts,
The sorrow is evident in your eyes,
And, let this be known, as the departure mounts,
We are, at last, free of the lies -
Of a love and of the illusions of care,
As, at each other, we hopelessly stare,
Into a sound that within us rings
And, at the memories, all the memories the longing brings.