We cling to homes and abilities
A feeble attempt to break our cyclic equilibrium
Of solitude and sanctuary
We seek the herds and the loudest crowds
To feel whole, to feel alive
Is living really a matter of wholeness?
But what of those who are not in the crowd?
How do we perceive the hermit
The loner, the wanderer, the soulless cripple?
Do their lives matter to us happy people in the mass
When we do not know how to reach them
Or have the ability to understand them
Amongst the living, walks the undead
Droning, mindless, pointless
These people sees no tomorrow
With no future possible, what dreams do these strange folk have?
What hopes do they have for themselves?
How can we make them a part of our happiness?
If only we knew
Qa'Rajh Creations 