Realizations and Limits.

Not everyday do you realize
that each ounce of discomfort
would pile up,
to form
a peak
so tall,
that, when it falls,
it actually just
inverts itself,
and a peak becomes
a trench.

The depth
is dark,
the depth
is deep.
It's a lonely place
in that pit,
only a dot of light
may or may not
be seen.





Why then,
even when
we know,
how deep
the darkness goes,
how empty,
the loneliness
envelopes the soul:

Why then,
not everyday do we realize,
that each ounce of that discomfort
makes a peak,
and the peak makes
a trench,
and a void,
full of a cacophony of silence
fills up the heart,
crushes the mind?