Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Monsters are depicted one dimensionally
Paintings illustrate the difficult decisions
This is the observer's farce

Blood on one's hands paint the canvas
Fingers comb through the valleys
Defining the geography of pain

Trauma sets in, and out goes precision
Distorting one image to reflect another

A change is needed in perspective's pallete
Hands soak to wash away the day view
The crimson stain nevers leaves,
Vibrant ideas left to wade in the murkiness
It's a story of a man
Who dived too deep
It's a story of a life
And wonder and heap
It's a story of a mystery
And junk to sweep
It's a story of music
That puts you to sleep
It's a story of a journey
With tears that seep
It's a story of memories
Force you to weep
It's a story of a turtle
With dreams to leap
It's a story of everything
But nothing to keep
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
May 10th, 2016
Goodbye is not something you merely say
It is felt and it echoes throughout your lungs and into your marrow
In this great big too far gone world
Goodbye could be forever and a day
People have no idea
of the sadness within me
The saddest part is not the missing
but the lack of missing.
My world upside down
only 9 years old.
I have no clue how I survived.
And now it hits me.
Only 3 years younger than you
when you left us.
It has been 17 years since that day.
And now it hits me.
The chances of me getting older,
older than you ever were.
It hits me like a brick now and then.
In 3 years time alot can change
but for now i'm fine again.
I'll tell you all about it
When I see you again dad.
Today it hit me that I am almost as old as my dad was when he died.
The future
The unknown

It is a common belief
To fear that leap
To fear the fall
To fear the unknown

The infinite possibilities
Compounding experiences
Weaving a wild, wonderful web

But it is not the leap
It is not the fall
It is not the unknown

Fear masquerades as comfort
The foundation at which we are built
The certainty that we stand against time

Do not be fragile
Be moldable

Craft destiny in the journey
The shapeless and boundless
Depths of potential

From the other side emerge
A master of Fate
I am doomed to these four walls.
The kind that are stained with the sinister colour of hate, but filled with the stench of entrapment.
A prisoner  to this war of racing thoughts and self loathing.
I'm shackled with a chain, and at the end of it, is weight of my
remorseful regrets.
A person can go mad on such conditions.
Like bats in the belfry.
But I cope with the worse intentions that I blankly dispatch such events, and call in the wrecking ball.
Operation with the actions to break and have a calling of  destruction to these ******* walls.
Just remember you caused that structure.
So now I embrace this freedom with a ******* held higher than the pedestal you thought you reigned so high on.
You ****** me up.
You once  held me higher than I thought I could climb, but now I just say no.
Your eyes enlighten me with such serenity, but now I see the trickery behind them.
I know now what wasn't true.
I know now what wasn't real.
I know now your title will always be a harlot with an addiction of  lust  like intentions, so lay in your bed of filthy lies.
I know now what ******* **** you truly  are.
I know now I'm free.
When my time comes don't you dare -
bury me beside all the others
I've tip-toed through life trying to be alone
Don't you dare lay me beside their forever 'yakking'
bones
Copyright May 7 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Depression is all
About if you loved me, you
Would. But you wouldn't.
Next page