The Essence of Pretend (Poem)

A torn man, I wander the night.

Thinking deeply, but feeling not.

I wonder if I should put up a fight,

Or let the harsh cold take over my heart.

I'm scared.

Too many times have I been hurt,

But without pain, I know no truth.

Fear controls me.

I hate myself for it,

Desperately grasping at what's no longer there.

I know no truth,

Or do I know it all?

My head hurts from the choices laid before me,

But without truth, I am blind, cannot see.

If one is blind without truth, then is love the essence of pretend?

-Zero

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Happy new years to all who may read this! I still have yet to figure out a new years resolution, and expect not to end up having one. With the coming of a new year, much has been set into motion. My mind has begun working again, pondering the infinite mysteries of my own life. Humans truly are complex and amazing creatures, but I'd be damned if I had to figure one out. Tonight, I clearly ponder the idea of love in my own life. Something strange happened by the end of this poem. A strange thought came across my mind, much like a random craving that a person might get for some god-forsaken meal. The thought, of course, was that of the blinding nature of love. If love blinds you, and if you're blind to the truth, then is love parallel to deceit. Is love even real, or just a fabrication of our own imaginations to allow ourselves a relief from the harsh reality of life? Perhaps I may think more upon this subject. It is a strange thing for me to begin thinking, considering my usual "pro-love" attitude. Who knows, this idea might just be my own way of dealing with the harsh reality of life! But it is much too late for me to continue writing right now, and I think I should head to bed. Till next time,

-Kuna Zero