And I Still Don't Know

We once dreamt of a world
where the sun would rise
alongside the thin tips of our fingers,
and the warmth of love and light
would reach past our torment.

We once dreamt of a world
where the suffering in living
had a purpose,
where it would let us grow.

We once dreamt of a future
where our hearts and minds
were not clouded by darkness,

and our chests could be filled
with the fires of passion
rather than this consuming
emptiness.

But all these dreams,
were they ever meant
to come true,

in this world
that's ultimately forsaken
by all and any Gods
and doomed by men?

Were our expectations
of surpassing the boundaries
that shackles us to numbness
ever realistic?

It's been 14 months since your death,
and I still don't know.