Feel.

The voices in my head won't let go.

Why do they keep coming back?

I find no reason to rant,

But I seem urged to feel enraged.

I long to seek the dawn of day

with no more than a simple path.

To finally sleep in the coolness of the night

and wake up with nothing but lucence.

Why does it bother me?

An iota of concern, I should lend not.

Part of a whole yet clearly divided.

Circle of trust harder to encroach.

Sang-froid, may you draw near.

For time may come, this will not conceal.

Take me to that lucence, lead to afar.

Callous. Shall this be?