How many words can you fit in a lifetime to sound off the passions that sparkle your gist

There must be a rip somewhere in the space-time continuum through which a different reality, eerily similar but evidently different seeps through.

I’m too tired for insight, too strong for solace, too clear for words, too resonant for silence, too old for wonder, too lucid.

I could buy the story that the world is wicked, that mankind is desperate and alone.

I hide my pain, I ride the rain, I exercise my life in vain. I see the shame, I fight the wane, I cry out from the tortured strain. My light is tamed, my soul is stained, the gladness in my heart is chained. My love is maimed, my self is slain, I'll fight till my last breath is drained.