What if it doesn't matter

What if it doesn’t matter?

 

Still, we move slightly forward.

                                             On what seems to be a floating icebound.

                                     Lock and key; almost there.     Close to you.

But what have we become?

                                     Nothing more than a ghost loop.

                                                                    All these thoughts.

That shapes our days; they are only words that wither away.

                     Broken hearts,        sounds of murmuring regrets.

With empty pockets,                   asking what it was all for?

                                       It's cold now, somehow we knew.  

Those missing links behind the pain, no silver lining.

                                   Just brass bars erected.   

                                   Bleeding in the shadows.

Reading the book of lies.

                                   A cryptic prequel of events.

                                   Unfolds beneath a divided surface.

Structure of a dislocated body.

                                                       Requiem for a shattered soul.

Of memories that follow, for not knowing who you are anymore.

Whispering.                Does it even matter?