Blind Man's Burden

The walls absorb unspoken cries,

soft steps masked by heavy sighs.

A shadow lingers, wild and free,

but bound by chains no eye can see.

The alpha stands with blinded sight,

folding truth into the night.

Bends the world to fit a tale,

where blame is bold and love is pale.

The subject drifts with fleeting hands,

shaping storms all around.

A flame that flickers, burns, and sways,

but never stops to count the days.

One watches, caught in tangled thread,

a ghost who walks but leaves no tread.

Hands outstretched, yet left unseen,

in silent rooms where hearts convene.

The air is thick, the moments slow,

while echoes beg for them to know.

Yet still one waits, still hope one keeps,

in fragile nights, in fractured sleep.