Shielded

The Mists circle around my eyes,
They become my mask,
My blindfold,
To the world around me

The Shadows cloak me,
Keeping me warm in the cold heartlessness
Of the ignorant world around me,
Shielding me.

The Echos bounce in my ears,
Muffling tones, sound itself,
Keeping me from hearing
The cries and moan of my blind world.

The Rains dim my sense,
Making my skin feel numb,
My sense of feel is soften,
Until I can feel only a whisper.

I am protected,
Protected from a bitter Earth
And from the cruelty of its people,
I am protected.

But is this the cost of protection?
Am I to blindly stumble around,
Never to be reached,
Yet never to exprience, feel?

Perhaps the Mists should rise,
The Sun should banish the Shadows,
The Walls fall away from the Echos,
The Clouds stop the Rains.

Then I could know this truth,
The mystery is hidden from me
By the very things that
Hold the most mystery of all.

Would I crumble or stand
When I'm stripped of all these comforts,
All these dampening things
That keep me from the real world?

Is it worth the cost?
Is truth more important than innocence?
Or should I stay as I am,
Protected but never free?