Guitar Solo

So many fragmented worlds
We settle so often 
For someone or something
Just to fill the space
Afterwards we demean or belittle
That which we knew would never
Satisfy or placate our desires
Human narcotics
Numbing the lack
We ourselves create
Is it possible to dreaming want
In such a fashion
As to leave our own basic needs
Unseen as well as unmet
All so that we can
Satisfy the martyrdom 
That only absence can sustain
Complacency ill describes
A state that consumes
Like the hollow worlds
We so blithely fabricate
There is nothing indifferent
In distance so passionately maintaned.

    ...I can neither see nor
          feel what caused the pain...