Undead - A Wrinkle in Time

Why is it when you look at me,
the coldness in your eyes,
an emotion racing back at me
like a wrinkle in time.
But it gives the strange desire
to be back to the undead,
unalive,
unaware,
unaroused,
and with too many cares.

You're forcing on me
this journey
into a black hole
through the stream of time,
where the thoughts I once knew,
dead to me,
These bittersweet memories come to life.

Hypotheses run thin,
and theories slowly falter
because all that was good in the world
is beginning to alter.

The change is not a good one.
The gilded age is gone.
So, smiling with those cold eyes,
lets the truth begin to shine.
But it really makes one wonder,
"Why am I just now alive?"

Because the blindness
is deafening?
Or the noise
is hard to taste?
Or was it to feel the falseness
in that pitch of haste?

No matter the reason,
the consequence lies out:
The coldness in your eyes
still frightens warmth
into my heart.

2-17-09
7:30 P.M.