Falling Petals of the Human Pysche

Through tangled briars our sullen feet trod  
Over desolate valleys of despair  
In the midnight moonlight, the air whispers "loneliness"
 
A fork in the proverbial road which is life  
Unable to navigate, unable to see  
Unable  
 
That which we long for is out of reach  
Has it always been unobtainable?
Perhaps it's such that I am too weak to attain it
 
This canvas is no masterpiece to be seen
It is a stain on my conscience  
A memory that will forever haunt me  
 
I wish to sleep now  
That may be the only thing I can do  
Sleep, to my heart's content