Just a Phase?

Why, sometimes, do you look beyond your eyes, to a world that doesn't matter,

where your soul dies in grey skies?

Why, sometimes, do you look into the night,

and wonder why you feel wrong and why you're not acting right?

Why, sometimes, do you walk on broken glass?

a haven once safe, you now fear to pass.

Why, sometimes, do you feel it's just this place?

when this place you've built around yourself is where you show your face.

Why, sometimes, can you be strong not frail,

blow away the winter mist, cast of the blinding veil?

Why, sometimes, does the sun protrude the sky?

I hope it's because hope remains, and for a second try.

Why, sometimes, is it hard to grip to the sublime?

Will hold on to the hope inside, that all it takes is time.