The Search

I'm tired of words without meaning, even when I say them myself. of lies as our alibis of truth ringing hollow in the bones of our lives. Tired of half-truths and regrets, Of the void, and self-debts. I tire even of writing, And trying to express More than I can say, For I've said nothing in all. A cycle of sorts, No beginning, no end, Just a middle ground Lost at the start And I'm mute as I wonder What I'm trying to scream Because words aren't enough, and life isn't a dream.