My heart fails me
as I try to make sense
of a world that escapes
my mortal comprehension.

A heart encased in stone
is still a heart.
Yet a stone is still a stone
despite what it holds.

Lost and found
in the same sense
as doing the wrong things
for the right reasons
or doing the right things
for the wrong reasons.

If the end justifies the means
then morals will be inconsequential.
This daily battle for happiness
amidst the burning rage
of who's, why's, what's and how's
become a refuge for doubt.

Hope is lost
to those who fail to risk.
Where is the honor in losing?
It's in every attempt to win
despite the the numerous casualties.

A heart encased in stone
is still a heart.
A stone is never just a stone
to a man who looks deep within.