Your Mess

Certain and strong I stood against it all once again. But the wind has blown me off to a stormy foreign land. Unknown and uncertain. I thought I know it all, but turned out I know nothing. That sharp image that I once knew, tuned to the darkest hazy blue. And it is getting out of hand. Amidst the chaos with an empty mind I hear no voices no sounds except for the echo of my screaming pride. So for a friendly voice I heed, If only you could see. But it makes no sense to wait for the sun heat in a rainy winter cold night.