Solvent.

I resolved to solve the problems

that whirled inside my head

and trickled from my frontal lobe,

to make my eyes grow red.

Dissolved with salt inside my tears,

my cares and fears did flow.

And with them, all the weight of hope

I did, on them, bestow.

It did involve a slow revolve

around earth's glowing sun,

for me to see, the root of pain,

has branches more than one.

Therefore, I chose no deeper with

my scalpel would I dig

into the wounds that, in my head,

were making my heart sick.

For deep and strong those branches grew

and with them, over time,

an intricacy with my own soul.

Their death would then be mine.

What then to do with gaping wounds,

so deep they reach your gut?

And from yourself, their tendrils,

you are unable to cut?

Deeper still, the roots of pain

will indefinitely spread.

But stay thy knife, and you may find

In time, a flower bed.

So, do not tear or pull away

the shoots of pain's indents.

But with great care and patience

Rub deeply Truth's solvent.