Analysis of Whispers of thought

Under the silver disk of the heavens,
I drown as if the night sky engulfs me from within,
Gasping for air, my heart drifts away,
Falsely accusing reality every day.

“Is it me?” I mindlessly asked,
Is it me who is at fault for every mistake of the past?
For every tear, I waste on minimal aggravations,
Dread floods my whole existence.

Is it the soul or the heart that whispers to me?
Do I have to be blind enough to see?
I weep and weep for the day to become,
My heart shatters from every word of your woeful song.

Actions steadily become mundane,
I wonder which one of us is truly insane?
Envisioning a glimmering silver over your thick skin,
Driven to a corner, my consciousness wears thin.

A monochrome past I wish to travel back to,
Though I am nothing different from a fool,
The colors of history will remain untainted,
With muddy colors, the present we painted.

Born to forgive, I live as though I do not,
The salty droplets I’ve wasted for you was all for naught,
The glimmering silver I designed to paint your body with crimson,
Gleamed at me, deserting the mission.

Is it you who is mistaken for keeping me encaged,
Or is it me, who is too frightened to escape?
A river of my tears could never compare,
To the pain and sorrow, I had to bear.

Fear not, as I wouldn't loath you,
I only wish for you and me to be rebirthed anew,
To be aligned once more,
To restore the love, I yearn for.