Light of burdens

Living in the light of burdens
astride the great heavy dull.
Wherein masks diverged from
faces plant themselves in
history's embrace.  
And sing-song nature's revel 
in the deep and wide of the world;
it spewing fodder for men
of the fullest persuasion.
Light me amid these dark moments
that I might know fear and,
in so doing, feel the pain of
finitude that is every person's
fate to feel.

Weight of the prolonged

Under the weight
of the prolonged
rests the peaceful
disintegration
of a name.

			What is your hope?

It is feeling,
oozing past reality
to where experience
suffers spasmodic fits.

It is the long 
and sullen
attaining 
critical mass.

(The belief that)
with a push from
the other side,
the anguish disperses
and comes relief.

Maybe this is 
where you find
it.
In the remembering.
In the soothing.

To mean,
to suffer --
sister soldiers
of internal discourse.
To verily believe
the unbelievable.