Wanting
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When words are mere
And darkness is still
When dreams are turbid
And the soul meek
Yet if the body longs to prevail
Is that deemed living

Yet some do
And others choose to ignore
Some feel
Some cannot
A paradox of such latter
I live as

Fear, for all one feels is transitory
Ascension, another faux
Since we all are fixed
Beneath the skies
In insolence of craving

A pity all must end
Yet a want to not
Some are,
Yet under false pretences
Smiling even
Wanting is such a crime