I have strived for years to become the perfect soul.
not in the ways that you may think, I have chosen to become cold, til the final toll, the beckoned call, I shall accept the righteous fall.
Am tied to memories of bitter cries, til my own eyes, perceived the basilisk bitter sighs, to no suprise, I will call upon the night.
Become what I must this powerful lust of a creature that is raised from dust, the calling of a shadowed bust, a skull that's faded in whitened rust.
Death is nigh for all around, but not from me, I see no ground, there will be no shedding of the tears, as I no longer will feel those that are near and will be released from any fear. Do not seek me out for only you will be found.
Destroyer upon the voyaged seas, crash upon the sirens' plea, ripped from the vessel mercilessly, as my name is called the serpents flee, against the fallens' last decree, you will never be set free.
Of desolation within prismatic eyes, a shallowed breath of discouraged sighs, I hear not the children's cries, crimson skies and broken lies, humanity will see it's demise.
Worlds appear to crumble from a chaotic sound of thunder, awakening all into eternal slumber, from your vessel I shall plunder the souls of every father, child and mother and in my wake all shall shudder as heaven and hell will be left asunder.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
Hell. What is, hell?
Hell is hoping that you would ask me to stay knowing **** well you never will.
Hell is looking at you smile because of someone else knowing that it would never be from me.
It's when you've fallen inlove with someone that will never love you back.
Losing yourself to someone without them realizing it.
What is hell you ask?
Hell is the bitter taste in my mouth when I want to tell you everything that I feel for you only to say absolutely nothing because I already know what your reaction will be.
Hell is me.
Hell is what my mind has become when all it can think about is you.
When you, I, and everyone we know says we would make a perfect couple and you just shrug it off and laugh.
I don't believe in heaven, but I **** sure know of hell.
This place isn't filled with fire.
It's filled with false hope and misplaced desire.
It doesn't have a devil on a throne,
It has a man with a still beating heart that cries out to no one but his own.
Hell is the realest place that we could possibly be,
Hell is the heartbreak that resides in you and me.
What is... hell?
Hell is when I write you a novel of how my day was when you ask, only to receive a single, destructive, one word response.
Hell is an emoji to my good morning.
Hell isn't a place beyond what we perceive, hell is what I am living in...
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 2:31 AM UTC
My memories deceive me, and my heart bleeds to thoughts of
you, poisoned from the curse that runs deep within my veins.
Do I halter and use the words that I can, to try with you,
another chance?
My memories deceive me, and my mind is headed to a paradox of
life that doesn't bring happiness but only a subtle feeling
of contentment. For in my memories you are with me in a
final, never ending dance.
My memories deceive me, as the bewildering cries from within
awaken the soul that has been bound by chains created from
the sins of my past life, and are made stronger by the sins
of which are my own.
My memories deceive me, as the rumors of your betrail fade
into the shadows but the calling from our hearts reach into
the light, violently, yet no sound have they shown.
My memories deceive me, trying to hold them back, all that
accomplishes is bringing you into my senses once again, but I
go forth to a different land with what could have and should
have been.
My memories deceive me, chased by an altered state of mind
where nothing has gone wrong, no death, no pain, just the
feeling of contentment once again.
My memories, they deceive me and everyone around me, for I do
not see faces, only souls that fade into surroundings. A
paralytic view is what they show, of what should have, could
have been you and me.
My memories deceive me, but could they instead be the truth
that I have been seeking as I try hard to sink them in
deeply...
My memories. My memories, immortal as they come, they open my
eyes, though they burn like facing the sun, in this time I
have begun, to realize my memories. They do not deceive, but
only conceive the past that I have forgotten and shields me
from...you.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
She was dancing sporadically in the rain.
And her name,
It was beauty, it was triumph, it was glory,
It was pain.
Her name was the still beating hearts that were syncopated by the souls that burned like a thousand flames.
Her name was music, her name was tragedy,
Her name became the core of my sanity.
Her name was the rhythmical footsteps as she danced without a beat,
Her name, my god, her name could lift you from your seat.
Her name was majestic, it was deliverance,
It was the epitome of being heaven sent.
She was an angel she was the demons,
She was everything inbetween them,
Her name was the first and the last breath of every human.
Her name was the war and it was peace,
Her name could turn men into beasts.
I couldn't help myself when watched her fade from this domain, as she went off to board the train,
But when it mattered the most, to my disdain,
I never had a chance to ask her, what was her name?
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
I finally did it!
I met my other self, in a parallel universe,
so asked him for help.
he was so kind, such a kindred soul.
he told me that his life is great,
and his mom is waiting at home.
his wife loves him more than life itself.
his children have prospered to be better with self worth.
his brother is successful, full of wonder and art.
his sister became the next actress in many movie plots.
he went on and on how great life was and how amazing happiness felt!
and he looked me upon my eyes to witness what I felt.
he asked me how I was doing in my part of life.
I told him that I have witnessed a walking world of strife.
I lost my mother when I was young,
my father lost his mind.
my brother, just like my self have grown cold for humans are unkind.
my sister still struggles day by day without any dreams.
sometimes I sit alone at night attempting not to scream.
I have scars on my arms from bullets and and sharp knives.
and that's when he asked me to stop and look back at my life.
although he was happy he said he wished he could have walked my shoes.
because tragedy has made me stronger than anyone he knows.
a perfect life gets boring and he never knew of rain.
because when souls start to break, the sound of falling water helps to soothe the pain.
and then he mentioned something that threw me for a surprise.
he wasn't really my other self,
he was what I saw as happiness through the mind of my own eyes.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
show love, be kind.
have faith in time you will find happiness
just don't go blind to hope,
even when you're backed against the ropes.
the stuff you write just shows
all the things that matter most.
be proud of you, of what you've become.
be proud that you're a fighter, son.
you fell so fast but rose up quicker.
in the end your heart is stronger and your soul is thicker.
just take the hate and pain away,
walk away when there is nothing left to say.
I believe in you, yes, I believe in you,
even when you're down, I see what others don't see in you.
no wait **** that! go crazy, destroy the world.
no one cares, they're all just little boys and girls.
**** love, build hate, it's time to be selfish, that's no debate!
they crushed you and destroyed you, why should you give a ****
they are the reasons that your heart grew cold,
humanity doesn't exist my man!
break them down, make them drown in their own sorrows, show them that they mean nothing now!
your family and friends and strangers too,
only exist to hurt you!
stop believing in yourself! why believe in yourself?! all that **** you were brought up in?
in the end we all die, end up in the ground and forgotten!...
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
By ManicBrilliance.
2016/01/26
you know it's kind of sad.
growing up, I wanted more than I ever had.
I wanted to find a woman that would love me forever.
I wanted to someday become a father.
But now, I just want to survive.
does it make you happy to be the reason that good guys go bad?
does it entertain you to see us cry, when we tell you that you're the best we've ever had?
does your laughter burst at the seams when you know that you're the reason that good men give up on their dreams?
chivalry isn't dead. But love is.
as a matter of fact, I don't even really know anymore what love is.
I can't even see myself happy with another human being.
And being a father no longer feels like it would be good for my well being.
so many friends I know have grown to hate others.
because we get brought down with stab wounds and scars.
don't tell someone that you will be there forever.
when in reality you meant for never.
I guess when you are heartless it takes a toll on the ones that give you their soul.
so to the rare few women that do exist.
I apologise for my behavior,
But the liars and cheaters is what made me like this.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
I work too much to think,
I think too much to work.
one minute I'm playing games,
trying hard to stay sane,
and then at my face I stare,
trying to fix my hair.
funny how time flies,
when you're doing twenty things at once,
I'm not the other guys,
it's been way to many month.
it's funny isn't it?
you try hard to keep your mental,
but your mental is detrimental to potential to have potential.
I despise the way you cry in the rain to hide the pain, when you try to hide the tears, and shelter all your fears, it's been way too many years, so you change it with the sheers, one hair at a time, counting down all of the crimes that happened to your life as you're reaching for the knife, screaming on the inside, but my words you don't abide when I'm trying.
I'm just trying.
****** I'm trying.
I'm trying.
I walk away in a silent vision of all things that are violent.
changing the description of faults, you default back into the shell as if it were your fault, but it's none but their own from what the records show.
And I try to make you see that inside my eyes you'll see a soul that's ment to be the reason that you breathe. but my words you don't abide, but I'm trying.
I'm just trying.
I can see, that you're trying.
I'm trying.
Delirious to the mysterious succession of the furious fears that settled in to the demons that are near to us and thus we make them dear to us.
my friend you are just missing out on what your life could be all about. a future that you surely doubt but realise that you're finally out. so wipe away the salted wounds that only you can see and despite all of the water you have to let yourself breathe because you're free. but my words you don't abide but I'm trying.
I'm just trying,
she not special but you're trying.
In the end do you love? or perhaps it was lust? or perhaps it was a must, for you to claim your trust. that you lost from your past? as a child you didn't last very long in a fight internally ignited by the crazed human beings that you said you wanted to show you your affection? instead of dereliction of a fantasy of perfection? and I read all of your sections and my words you don't abide even though I try.
and man, I am trying.
stop fighting it and try.
I'm just trying.
Albeit that you must realize who I am. I'm ashamed of what I was, I'm ashamed of what I became. I could never hide my sin, and I never could fit in, no matter friend or kin. so I hide the voice within trying to tell me to let them in. but what you know is just the skin. and you see.
the skin sheds.
as it dies, it tries to hide.
and me? I'm just trying.
so a hermit I will become.
because all I do is try.
and for now.
I'm done trying.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
Within lamenting hushened calls,
Shepards watch thine burning sea.
As bussoms burn with froths of lies,
I shall avenge you, this I decree.
Lost art thou, to seven layers.
A trembled ground from which you cry,
With sword and dagger at my side,
To free you, I would surely die.
Worry not, the chains that bind,
I shall crush with mine own hands.
For power beacons within mine heart,
To crumble towers into sand.
But thy doth not knowst,
To slay the beast of sorcery.
The sword I bring is my mind,
And the dagger is mine poetry.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC