writing An unbearable question

[Pan the Fabulous Ferret 2,642]

I am lost.

Without a word or a care,

I am lost without.

 

Make sense of me please,

for I am lost still.

I don't believe i can be found.

 

I'll take the time, just this once,

to stop for a moment.

Here I will sit and ponder.

 

Through that which I ponder raises a question.

Why am I lost?

I know the answer.

 

It is a simple answer, yet so complex.

Often that is just how we, as people, feel.

And so apon answering myself on my rhetoric.

 

Now I ask, how?

How does one know warmth without first experiencing bitter cold?

And how does one know this cold without first feeling gentle warmth?

 

The answer is simple, yet complex.

So still I write?

WHY? The question rings in my ears.

 

I once thought I knew the answer,

back when my life had little meaning.

Back in the time of pointless depression and self directed hate.

Why is it that things seemed so much simpler in that time?!

 

The answer?

simple, but complex.

There is no answer.

 

Or so I now believe.

 

I racked my brain and others for this answer.

It is a falicy.

Questions only bring more questions.

Pain will only bring more pain.

Or will it?

Should I be the one to know?

 

I cannot know,

I am far too weak to understand.

I already gave up in this endeavor.

 

And to the reader, yes i mean you,

why is it that you still read?

 

Are you perhaps enthralled by the idea of an answer?

 

You could have chosen to stop the redundent work, yet you stay.

 

I am without words to speak.

Perhaps that is why I write.

On days like this, i write.

 

My goal?

To give a question to unanswerable questions,

and to provide answers to that which has yet to be asked.

 

-David favret