Poemish

My heart breaks at a distance for the cries of injustice.
With apathy does it receive hurt and cringe at emotional distress.
Like the hurt of a phantom limb, its mourning for the loss of unity and wholeness
undercuts my understanding of the purpose original design.
Like the reception of an estranged child, its comprehension not prepared
for the overflow of tears and overwhelming reception of someone else's pain.

Characterizing the problems of nature in terms of
Synthetic simile, I force myself to grasp at the concept of empathy.
Coming up empty, I straddle the gap between trenches of compassion and indifference,
striving to discover a place amongst the fallen.
The obligation of support and audacity of ignorance contrasting both sides,
I remain struggling with the call to love as I love myself.

In light, a love of self is that of reflection.
Channeling the grace of agape into self-worth, I begin to comprehend.
Yet, beneath the dark clouds of the fallen world, rays of light are distorted.
In darkness, I see no part worthy of love.
It is within this existence, torn between ignorance and support,
that I desire to share the burden of heartache, and reject the objective lense for true understanding.