Bonds of Trust

Broken apart like a weathered rock,
Crumbling somewhere within me.
Detached, yet with the power to affect,
To affect every vaulted niche of my mind.


Torn and tattered like wayward clouds,
Drifting apart, these frayed wisps of emotion.
Disappearing within, or beyond,
Nobody knows, least of all, I.

Bursting from its safe membrane,
Popped not of its own accord.
Violating its sanctity, its security.
The surety of ambiguity befalls.

Clumped up like dead moss,
Huddled in its parched embrace.
Holed up in this room of trivialities,
Cowering, awaiting the hope of morning.

To trust, isn't easy.
To mend it, near impossible.
Thus, the human condition suffers.
Alone. Alone. Alone.