Lost in a tavern of doubt
Darkness deepens the drought
Peace concocted with anger
The fury sparks a flame
My sorrow is filled with pain
My sole aim is to tame the voices echoing
Swarming around like bees
Chaos and calamity
My mental capacity to see
Out of this dark hole
Is tarnished
I resent the very things I can't contain
My tears stain my shirts sleeve
I sleep with one eye open,
The demons terrorize my dreams
I fear what I can overcome
I am succumb by disillusioned thoughts
My heart, as heavy as shackled feet
The dust becomes my perfume
The aroma of death touches my shoulder
I am an anomaly, eagerly waiting for liberty
Conformity is my enemy
But it's crude lips deceive me
Saying I should strip myself of individuality
To be molded by confusion
To taste the vile poison of humanity's flaws
The struggle
The battle
The despair
Dig me a hole, six feet under
And lower me in with the maggots and worms
Cover me in darkness
Tell me I'm not here
Tell me lies I can believe
And yet with such shocking imagery
Nothing compares to the nightmare of reality
There is no escape from this tragedy
Cursed from birth
Birthed in destruction
I am nothing.
© Tristan B. (Tristan B)
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 3:34 AM UTC
My God
What have I done?
I was your son
Perched beneath the sun
Suddenly I sunk below the horizon
And threw myself beneath
To swim in regret and pain
Sorrow is vain and that stains
My God
To fly with the birds
And to see what I have seen
And to dream dreams that have fruited into reality
It seems ironic
And filled with intimacy, turned to oddities
My God,
What have I done?
To measure my options
To dive straight in
And leave emptier than before
An illusion of course,
To hear the sweet sounds of divinity
Yet fall into the ocean deep
Oh God what have I done?
To fail
To try
To free fall
And to lose
To touch the clouds and feel the breeze
To glide across with the trees
And be ceased by reality
My God
What have I done?
Was it me?
Was it me?
© Tristan B. (Tristan B)
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC