Painful contrast

Winded in a sorrowful song, played by the windows where the sepia filtered the sun dead. While their hearts seek and find the waited for, the everlasting crave for; the light mornings and the silver nights, their warm bodies and the grilled sunlight through the same sky that's grey for me. Glide past the curtains, the great gravity of comfort outside mellows the candles inside. The Laughs at my fearful breaths, falling pieces and the winded song that still plays the sorrowful phrases, begins to seem faded when the intravenous pain sings through me, for me. No more the world's without corners, now the vintage chanting walls around my soul, my mind somewhere below. Every smile is a quote for each one i never had, all the love from between the curtains, I see, drugs me with more self-infliction, immortal pain. Turns took nowhere but smoothed down to the painful circuit of lapping the same mornings, with a dying light, my intravenous song, my wonder whisper.