Intentions

The world sways jaded and bleak,
Not as it did before,
Nor as it would if it were,
Still submerged in the throes of bliss of which I speak.

Hopeless confusion,
Misguided and unfortunate debt-
I should be so lucky to feel,
Anything but utter regret.

Regret that I could not,
Comprehend the complexities.
Regret that I can not,
Trust in them with all of me.

Surely it is not just me,
Or perhaps it is.
My trust is a foreign ideal,
Even when given in entirety.

Trust once understood completely,
So firmly engulfed my mind's eye.
It forged a bond so strong,
Should such death evolve so bittersweetly?