The Recluse

Where is the grace?
In our passing lives
Abundance of the worldly
A lack of substance.

A senseless race head-to-head with the wilful
Your fight was never mine.

I see cold men graceful in their moves
Ready for the next sweeping tide
This tired parade of words inane
What is there to hold on to but the pretense of dreams?

I cannot lower myself, idle another day
Turning away from truth and profound thought
I have seen, I've searched enough
Determined faces and plastic facades.

Search in despair for some humanity
Nourish the fading spirit
This is my requiem
My long awaited reclusion.

I can't silence the voice
That speaks of detriment
The detriment of human kind.

I just never found a home
A sense of common ground
Forever deemed a stranger, yet forced to comply.

Do I dare to dream once again?
Govern my own existence
Do I dare to dream once again?
Do I dare to leave things behind?