The Faded Struggle of Restraint
She slogs through the forgotten days
Of practice, pleasure, and deep malaise.
They have meaning, I’m sure
They have meaning, I know.
And yet deepest desires
And ultimate focus go
To fictional days of excitement, color, and life
To wonderful times when husband calls me wife.
Vivid pigments fade when reality
Comes to the unwilling soul who must see
The danger in love, the confusion
In it’s deeply powerful illusion
Of security, meaning, and worth.
It cannot be true, I’m sure.
It cannot be true, I know?
So she slogs through the forgotten days
In the faded struggle of restraint.
The Faded Struggle of Restraint
Life is bright and full of beauty.
The world is colors, vivid and moody
Moments strike, and the world doesn’t change.
Yet mountains of suffering dim the range
Of colors faded, colors mute.
The world is still there!
The picture is the same!
Full life is through the door
That is closed to you now.
There is no opening it, for you don’t know how.
And even if you did
There would be no guarantee
That life would be even close
To the beauty you thought it would be.
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