From The Lab

Diagnosis

"He is not healthy," the Elderman said,
"The passion inside him is gone;
Before it was said, 'twas illness,' instead,
But what was said before is wrong.
There's anger inside this man with no name,
You can see it within his eyes,
They stare at the world with common disdain,
Through false men of crafty disguise."

"He grieves for the many from yesteryear,
For moments that were too seldom,
The ghosts of the past do ever appear
And that grief could overwhelm him.
He's jealous of those with paper riches,
And doesn't realize they've nothing
But earthly things and unfulfilled wishes;
The target that's always running."

The Elderman stopped, gazed at his patient,
Cleared his throat and continued on.
"I see he's growing much too complacent,
He believes his love to be gone.
Never again might his heart take that flight,
The trust in himself is far lost,
He thinks another does not have the right,
That gamble has too high a cost."

"A happiness cowers deep down inside,
Afraid that if it shows it's face,
A long dormant part of the soul will rise
And he'd only get but a taste
Before reality comes back full force,
His hopes, once risen, shall fall hard;
The fear of that moment shattered its source,
Leaving only these gleeful scars."

"Disgusted, he tosses and turns with dreams,
Embarrassed with thinking these thoughts,
Hating himself and the minds' wicked schemes,
And all the destruction it's wrought.
There's a sadness in this man's tired eyes,
He feels, his ways, they would not mend,
And when, with confidence, he starts to try,
He stops, in fear, he'll fail again."

Content with his work, the Elderman left,
To his audience's dismay,
To them, the matter was far from it's rest,
But that's all they would hear that day.
Though I, with intent and my motives pure,
Asked the sage what he was seeing,
He answered, with simply, "He's insecure,
Which makes him the human being."