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Oct 2017 · 700
i know
Deisphorios Oct 2017
"cut side ways for attention!"

"cut straight for results!"

echoing in my head every time the topic is brought up
a chorus of the same words
over and over
again

"anyone that does it only wants attention!"

like a waterfall
the words spill from your mouth
always on repeat
as if a broken record

again and again
the words echo in my head
so i can never forget

i already know

you've said it enough
deleting soon
May 2017 · 893
Galaxies Apart
Deisphorios May 2017
When I first met him, our meeting was nothing extraordinary. It was nothing more than a mere exchange of words and a quick glance of the eye. We were a few years apart, which made me scared to talk to him. But yet, when I looked into his bright blue eyes for the first time, I felt like I saw something more within him.

At the time, I knew nothing but his name and I knew nothing about him as a person. Despite that, it was very easy to see the emotion trapped behind his blue eyes. It amazed me how expressive his eyes were, despite the fact that he was wearing a mask that hid is true self from other people. I don’t know if anyone ever noticed it before, because he really was amazing at hiding it. Even though I barely knew him, I could tell that he was hiding his real self.

Later that night, I was lucky enough to be able to look into his eyes again. It was the second and final time of that night, and this time I felt like I saw something different than before. I saw happiness. But, why would he be happy now when he obviously had a mask that hid his anxiety before? I wouldn’t realize it until later, but I believe that I saw my own happiness in him.

This raised many questions. Why could I see a glimpse of my happiness in a guy I had barely met? If there was a possibility of me being happy, I think I may have found it in him.

Two years ago, I had hope. I hoped that somehow, I could start talking to him and maybe become friends. And now, two years later, it seems that the stars have aligned.

Oh, and they’ve aligned alright. But not in my favor.

It was almost as if the space dust and particles in between the stars aligned just so I could see the shadow of his existence walking past me. But that same space dust covered my vision and left me blind, searching for the man that I had barely seen. It seems that my chances with him were made near impossible; he was put just barely out of my reach.

Everything was too perfect, too set in place.
I don’t think we were ever meant to officially meet.
If one tiny instance were to change, then perhaps there could be a chance.

But, I don’t think that whatever is out there - god or something - ever intended for us to be together. I saw my life in the reflection of his eyes, standing in front of me.
And in the next moment-

I never saw it again.
Some thoughts during a storm. Writing these story things really helps clear the mind wowie
May 2017 · 918
nothingness
Deisphorios May 2017
i guess i'm just a mess
and maybe i'm just lonely
and maybe im just bitter
but i know that my head is a storm
and my chest is just empty
May 2017 · 519
Cold Waters
Deisphorios May 2017
Waves softly splash onto the shore.
Stepping into the sand,
it's cold.
Clouds cover the sky, cast over the horizon,
the Sun unallowed to shine its shimmering rays.
The cool water is calm, gray, and clouded.

For fear of the freezing depths,
you stay at bay in the sand.
However, they seem seldom to fear.
They, oh so perfect in every way,
splash in the water as if it were a warm summer day.

They pull you in, promising the cold water isn't so bad.

Discontent at the claim, you cower away.
Your capris, rolled up to your knees,
are soaked.

With them, though,
maybe the cold water wasn't too bad.
Deciding to brave the brisk waves,
you step back in.

Letting the waves wash over your feet,
the breeze softly blows by,
and the sun begins to shine through the clouds.

Maybe the wintry water really wasn't so bad.
i had a dream... and you were in it.
May 2017 · 2.3k
The First Time I Met Him
Deisphorios May 2017
As the day lays to rest and dusk settles upon the sky, I lay motionless in bed. Shadows crawl over the walls and seep into the corners of the room. The open window lets the last of the natural light the sun has to offer filter into the room. As young birds sing their evening songs, the room gradually becomes a deep shade of blue. In the shadow of the day and in the limelight of night, my self-destructive thoughts from the day are slowly quelled.

The deep blue hues of the room allow new thoughts to resurface in my head. However, these thoughts were not so bad to think about. The dark atmosphere but calming demeanor of the space reminded me all too much of him.

Memories began to resurface of the first time I met him. A few years older than I, he was eighteen and I was fifteen. He was going off to college while I would be entering sophomore year. And god, I know. Trust me, I knew it wasn’t a good situation already.

He first caught my eye from afar. He was talking to my brother and I couldn’t even see all of his face. And I don’t know why, but he took my breath away. I remember that my first thought of him was that he was short. No more than two inches taller than me, and I thought it was the most adorable thing. I remember that my mood was rather dull on this particular day, but just seeing him had changed my attitude. To this day, two years later, I still don’t know what to call it. I don’t want to say that it was love at first sight, because that seems a little extreme.

But I walked closer to him, too scared to actually walk up and introduce myself. I remember tripping over my feet a little, which he apparently heard because he turned and looked straight into my eyes for a split second.

And god, oh my god. Just from looking into his sea foam eyes for that second, I could tell that he had a thousand stories to tell but had no one that was willing to listen. His bright blue eyes, even I could tell they were a little dull. I knew they could be brighter. He was a quiet soul, looking for something in his life that could hold more meaning. He was surrounded by family and friends, yet it looked like he had never felt more alone.

At the time, I could decipher the code of thought in his eyes. But yet, my overly nervous, fifteen-year-old self, was far too scared to ever talk to him. I came close, once, when he and my brother stood near me and my brother asked me something. I could have joined the conversation, but I didn’t. I answered my brother and walked away. And to this day, I will never regret a decision that I have made more than that one. I knew from the moment that I left that place that I made a big mistake. It felt like I had just lost something that I treasured deeply.

The thing was though, I only knew his name. I wouldn’t learn more about him until later, when I would realize that, wow, he is truly someone special. However, after I left that place, I put every thought I had about him into the back of my mind. I knew that it wouldn’t happen anyways.

For two years, he has been in the back of my mind and he has never left. It has been two years since I’ve seen or spoken to him. Yet, I’m still learning new things about him from my brother. And honestly, the happiest moments in my life right now are when I learn something new about him. Because that is enough. Learning anything about him makes me impossibly happy, and that's all I need right now.

It's all that I have of him, however. A few pieces of information about his life and what he likes. But, honestly, I'm still happy with just that.
lmaooooooooo its story time ya'll so grab a cup of coffee and read my dumb love story about my undying crush that I'll never speak to again hahaha

theres also a lot more stuff ill be doing in the future abt him sooooo
Mar 2017 · 586
mistakes
Deisphorios Mar 2017
i cant help but consider how easy it is to make mistakes

like taking a wrong turn on accident

or even getting a bad test grade

but the worst mistake to make, and probably the easiest

is falling in love with someone that you cannot fall in love with
Feb 2017 · 423
Suspension Of Disbelief
Deisphorios Feb 2017
A galaxy of tears swell in her eyes
Shoulders shaking
Heart breaking

Lost in the sea of her mind
Unable to find the surface
She's drowning
this **** is old why not post
Jan 2017 · 471
2:39 a.m.
Deisphorios Jan 2017
I laugh all the time
and I smile with glee,
but my heart never feels truly open and free.
I may look happy, and most times I am,
but I can never forget the sinking feeling within my heart.
It's all inside my head,
the thoughts and the memories
It's a mental issue,
is the only conclusion I have...
No matter how happy I think I am,
i realize that my heart doesn't feel the same

Despite that,
I'm glad I built my walls too high,
too thick to penetrate
Because I don't want my friends to see that,
i don't want to let them know,
what is constantly on my mind...

I've heard people say that I'm as simple as a book,
that my walls are no more than a pitiful snow fort,
and I almost laugh
because they couldn't be more wrong

If my walls were so thin and so meek as to melt under
the heat of the sun,
I would have been figured out long ago

I feel that I am no longer able to carry my own weight
whether it's the weight of my responsibilities or just myself,
i'll never know
I eat slower, much less than what I used too,
finally becoming conscious of that weight
Maybe even trying to lift my physical burden,
in hopes that it will relieve my mental one

I have yet to find answers for myself,
in the **** storm of my head
Is it a real, mental problem?
Perhaps a phase of the teenage mind?
Or am I just... looking for attention...?
i was awoken from a spooky nightmare and wrote this really quick so its probably ****, i might change stuff later
-ashrah
Oct 2016 · 2.5k
What's the Point of Living;
Deisphorios Oct 2016
When even my well rested eyes are always tired,

and I'm asleep more often than I am awake.

When my arms feel heavy and beg to stay still,

and my legs seem unable to carry my own weight.

When my hands are so cold that they have gone numb.

When life is nothing more than a boring, endless cycle,

and there is obviously something wrong with me?


What’s the point of living,


If food has lost its taste?

If I could never understand people to begin with?

*If I have lost the will to live?
this was in my drafts man idk,,,,
i didnt change anything so the grammar and evrythn else is terrible so pls dont mind it
Oct 2016 · 507
something?
Deisphorios Oct 2016
Something* feels different.
It's something you'd never notice.
Something that you'd never consider to change,
Something that you never thought would change.
Until one day it shifts just enough,
That you're forced to reevaluate yourself,
And you finally realize,
That something is incredibly different.

It occurred surely but gradually.
Comparing yourself from two years ago,
To one year ago,
And even six months ago;
What about you changed?

Normality may be what you felt.
Something inside you that felt normal enough,
Simple enough,
For it to be dismissed as even a thought,
For it to be thought of as nothing.

Normality is what you may call it.
Nothing was out of the ordinary,
This feeling was never there.

But, things change.
It has evolved into something more.
Something that you can no longer dismiss.
But at the same time,
You have no idea what you’re feeling.
You don’t know what to call this.
And you’re confused.
What exactly has changed?

What is it I’m trying to describe to you?
You have no answer, and I have no answer.
I’ve not the slightest idea.
But I’m trying to figure it out for the both of us.
Jun 2016 · 724
loneliness.
Deisphorios Jun 2016
Physically, I am alone.

During the day,
My father,
mother,
and brother,
all work.

While I am still young,
without a car or a job;
unable to leave the house.

The days feel long,
Paranoia makes it impossible to sleep in,
As it makes it impossible to fall asleep.
“Summer is the perfect time to regulate your sleep schedule!”
That's not what's happening, as much as I may wish.

During the day,
I will draw,
I will write,
I will play music on the stereo so loud that it could be heard from outside,
Just to keep my thoughts from going astray.

It’s no better when my parents get home either,
I still end up avoiding them.
I've never had a close connection with them anyways.

. . .

Mentally, I feel alone.

My parents have never understood me,
Nor have they ever tried.
I know my brother cares,
But I’ve realized that he doesn’t understand either.
I know that my friends care,
And I'm sure that a few of them understand too.
But when they ask me what's wrong...

I have nothing to say.

Maybe there are so many things going wrong that I don't know what to say.

Maybe there is absolutely nothing...

    *Maybe I'm fine...
                                                         ­     
                                                                ­                   Maybe I'm hiding it all...

I feel I'll never truly know,
Maybe I'll even believe in my own lies so much,
that they end up becoming truths.

So...
I'll stay alone,
I honestly don't mind.

It's never bothered me,
I've always been this way,
It's just another year this way.

Loneliness is not always a bad thing,
I feel fine by myself,
Away from others with no expectations.

*I enjoy being alone;
As much as it breaks me down.
c Ashrah
another rant i suppose. that's all this is.
that's all these ever are.
i should really try to branch out one of these days...
and i have many, good friends..
but these thoughts have never left
i thought, maybe if i wrote them down, it would make my thoughts quieter.
Deisphorios May 2016
“How are you able to sleep so much?”
I’m tired, I guess...
“Why do you nap almost everyday?”
I’m trying to forget, I guess...
“Why did you stay up so late?”
It’s quieter at night, I guess...
“Why do you still fall asleep really early sometimes?”
“I don’t want to deal with anything anymore, I guess...
“What do you mean, you didn’t fall asleep last night?”
I was dreading tomorrow, I guess...
“There are a lot of insomniacs out there, be grateful that you can even get sleep.”
I know… i am...
“You need to fix that sleep schedule of yours.”
It’s not that I need to fix it… it's probably just my body knowing when everything’s become too much…

. . .

“Why do you sleep so much?”
I want to, I guess...
“Do you enjoy sleeping a lot?”
… yes
“Has anyone ever asked you that before?”
… no
“What are you trying to achieve by sleeping more?”
I’m trying to forget, to procrastinate, to waste time, to not deal with anything, a lot of things, I guess…
“Why do you keep saying, ‘I guess’?”
I’m unsure of myself, I don't know the exact reasons behind my want for sleep...
“Those answers were pretty... honest.”*
Now that's a first, isn't it?
Again, this didn't turn out like a poem but o well :>
copywrite Ashrah
Apr 2016 · 286
Untitled
Deisphorios Apr 2016
Why do you yell at me?
Why did you never yell at him?
When I'm defending my mother from you and you look back and tell me,
"Why don't you keep your ******* mouth shut and speak when I tell you to speak"
Why do you only say that to me?
Why do you say "it's none of your buisness"
When you're yelling at my ******* mother
Of course it's my buisness and if you think I'm not going to fight back then you're dead ******* wrong
But why
Why do you
You only yell at me
You never yelled at him
When he spoke his mind and pointed out your wrong-doings
You didn't do anything
You didn't yell at him and tell him to shut his ******* mouth
You didn't tell him that
And now that he's in college I'm alone to face him
God knows that he doesn't care what my mom has to say
I'm alone here and there's nothing I can do
All I can wonder
Is why he does this to me
And not you
Why does he yell at my mom when she didn't do anything wrong
Why does he get mad when I defend her
Why does he get mad when I open my mouth
Why does he yell at me for this
What am I doing wrong
Is helping my mother wrong?
Why am I not allowed to fight back?
Why won't you let me talk until I'm spoken to?
Is what I'm doing really so wrong?

Dad...
Why?
I'm crying and this is **** but I have to let it out
Apr 2016 · 280
Closet of Life
Deisphorios Apr 2016
Please don't open this door,
Just let me be.
Alone here with my lies, can't you see?
Perhaps not, but that's okay,
Because maybe you'll see them another day.

Scratching my skin,
Wishing it would tear open so I could finally be free.
But fairy tales don't come true here,
And I am stuck forever in this reality.

There is no way out,
For I’ve learned the hard way.
But I've also come to accept the fact that,
Life has become completely grey.

Please don't open me, I am perfectly fine,
Because I can just sit here and pass the time.
12:08, Sunday night, dreading a tomorrow.
c Ashrah
Mar 2016 · 1.2k
Inconvenience
Deisphorios Mar 2016
“Inconvenience.”
“That's all I've ever felt”
With parents that work too much, and very few friends,
“I never got any help.”

As young siblings we hated each other,
The social gap between me and my best friend grew,
“There really wasn't much else I could do.”
                                               “Is there something wrong with me?”
               “Do they not like me?”

“But mom, we never do anything together. We don't go anywhere. And there’s nothing to do at home.”

“That's because we don't have the extra money to do anything fun, sweetie. And I’m sorry, you’ll just have to deal with what we have.”

I don't think she knew that all I would have wanted was a walk in the park together, a block from our house.
“Even then, she never had the time.”
                            “Why does she have to work so much?”
                                                                ­  “Am I really asking for a lot?”

I knew I was no normal child.
But it would have been nice if my father would not have acknowledged it,
If he would have played along like my mother,
To not signal me out so harshly when they had a perfectly good son 3 years older than me.
“Why’d they even have a second child?”
            “We all know he’s way better than me.”                                                  
       “He’ll hardly talk to me… I guess he knows it too…”
                                                                 ­      “Do I matter to them?”

As I got older, I asked my parents for more things. Simple things. They were simple.
“I swear”                                    “I swear”
                  “They were simple”        
                                                ­                             ”Am I asking too much?”

However, with these requests came harsh answers, harsher than I expected at age 10.
I eventually learned to quit asking, knowing what the answer would be.
Every time I asked I felt that I would only be an inconvenience.
I felt that I would only cause them trouble.
This was the start of a habit.
“Wait, no”
                  “That’s not it.”
                                            “It was more than that”
           ”It was life lasting”
It was the start of a whole new section of my personality.
The fear of causing trouble to others.
The fear of people going out of their way for me.

“I can give you a ride home from school if you want?”
“I can pay for your lunch today, it's no big deal”
“No, it’s fine really. I’ll figure it out. It’s fine.”

As long as I don't have to feel any guilt,
I promise I won't accept help from you.
I promise I won't accept favors from you.
I promise I wont cause trouble for you.
Please..
Please,
Please.
              “Please”
         ­                      “Please”
                                               “I can do this on my own”
                                                           ­ ”I don’t need help”
                             ”My only request”
         ”Is to please…..”

*
Don't let me be an Inconvenience to you.
No matter how much I explain, the people around me never seem to understand that I cannot take things lightly.
And I never knew how to explain this dilemma to them. Even now, I feel as if I have not explained it properly. This topic is nothing light to me. I cannot lighten up. This is how I am. I hope that people around me learn to accept this.
Jan 2016 · 732
Internal Conflict Pt. 2
Deisphorios Jan 2016
However,
There’s one more dilemma...
I love the quiet,
I welcome the dark,
For the same reason that I hate them both.

Because no one is around me,
No one is there to worry about me,
There are no voices whispering in my ear to grow up, get married, have kids, get a job.
I'm not ready for that yet.
And other voices, although caring, telling me to eat more, sleep more, never forget to take care of myself.
But I can't do that.
I must hold back on my mental issues to do what I must.
And eating and sleeping is no must in my book.
As long as I can make it through a day.
As long as I can get good grades.
As long as I’m not a disappointment.
I don’t need them.

In the dark, my imagination and anxiety take over my thoughts alarmingly quickly.
But at the same time,
I can hide here.
I am safe here.

No one has to see me,
I can do whatever I please.
And no one will judge me for it,
No one will be inconvenienced based on my actions.

You see, I never quite know what I want,
Trapped in a circle of light and dark.
Which one can I stay safe in?
Which one can I stay happy in?
Which one will tear me down first?
Which one could I tear down first?

All of these questions,
I have answers to.
However, I'll choose to ignore them,
Because I don't know which is better yet.
I cannot decide yet.

*Thus, the never ending cycle of internal conflict.
c ashrah
sorry mom i know you expected more
Jan 2016 · 711
Internal Conflict Pt. 1
Deisphorios Jan 2016
The dark terrifies me,
The quiet engulfs me,

Fictional phantoms fade into my vision as their hands claw through the gloom like a fog in the night.
I never know what shape they'll shift into, like a new opponent that I know I can’t fight.

Could it be a black figure with nothing on its face but a mouth,  eyes in the back of its throat,
hiding in my closet?
A creature with a twisted face contorted in agony,
waiting just outside my door?
Perhaps a four armed creature with 6 eyes, no nose, and a wicked grin,
to come crawling along my walls?
A young girl in white, presumed to be innocent, but only the presence of an insane smile upon her lips,
groaning from the corners of my room?
Or maybe, simply a ghost with no form, just a pair of wide eyes,*
watching me from my window?

It's on quiet nights like these,
(which are more common than you might think),
that I can hear every whisper the house makes,
every groan of the trees as they wave in the wind.
It’s on nights like these...
that I can feel my heart pumping and my blood rushing and I suddenly remember something that is deathly important.

That I'm alive…

Which reminds me that I'm afraid.
Almost like being alive is nothing but a dream, a terrible one that I've been waiting to wake up from.
But sadly, I cannot.
It’s on nights like these that I am reminded...
That the thought of living haunts me,
That the thought of growing up petrifies me,
I can't see my future self doing anything special,
Mostly for the fact that I can't imagine it.
I can't imagine myself doing anything.
I can't imagine myself living that long.

These thoughts burden me every time the sun goes down, a constant battle between the physical world and my mental hell.
c ashrah
Jan 2016 · 576
October 14, 2015
Deisphorios Jan 2016
Yes, this poem has come much too late,
And I hate to say that you've already met your fate,
But it seems that your soul took the bait,
and wrought a trail of tears on its way.

I remember our days back in kindergarten,
We spent our time playing during recess,
And I remember your birthday party with a bright yellow pinata in the back yard.
I remember that small toy turtle you gave me,
I remember your gentle kindness, even for a child,
And I wished that our friendship would last forever...

However…

That was back in kindergarten and schools separated us in elementary,
Until I had the chance to meet you again in 7th grade.
No, we never became as close as when we were kids,
But it was a past relationship that stood solid on our eyelids.
We never forgot,
We acknowledged each other,
We respected each other,
Like good friends did.
And I was fine with just that.

And then, a few years would go by and I'd finally hear the news…
(one of the last to know, might I add.)
That you had grown sick, too ill to leave the hospital bed,
And the thought of the true name brings tears to my eyes to even think of.

Yes,
I made it seem like it was nothing,
I carried on just fine,
Like it was no big deal.
But I'd never told anyone how much I was truly worrying.
(But there was also a part of me that “knew” that you'd make it through.)

Six months past,
And we had good laughs,
You seemed like you'd get better, you really did…
But one day, out of the blue, you caught a cold.
Which lead to a lung infection.
And finally, it was enough to bring you down.

The next thing I know I was told the news while going to lunch that day,
Four of us were told by a friend,
We sunk down on the stairs, our appetites gone.
We were brought to a room in the back, all four of us in tears.

I remember the stark white walls reflecting cold light on a dark table, which was surrounded by my friends.
The four of us joined them, we immediately slumped down on the floor and cried.
We hunched low on the ground, never dared to show our red and puffy faces.
When I looked at the faces surrounding me, only a few were actually in tears.
The only thing I could think for the next hour was;
“How are you not crying?”

I distinctly remember one of my friends coming to sit by me and another friend,
The three of us cried together for a while,
and we could not go back to class for the rest of the day.

It's almost been 4 months since that day.
Only four months.
And it never fails for you to cross my mind at least once a day,
And every month on the 14th, I always think of you.

I know this is late,
But if i'm being honest,
I was really hoping to never create a piece about you.
However, I don’t think I can get over it if I don’t write something.
**Forgive me, my friend, for it seems that I’ve always been a little late, am I right?
For my Friend.
Sep 2015 · 725
School
Deisphorios Sep 2015
Why am I even here?
“Why are we even here?”
It’s not something I’m asked if I’d like to do...
“It's because we’re forced to!”
.
.
.
Teachers that no longer care,
Assignments I can hardly bare,
Anxiety that I wish not to share...
Every whirl of motivation I had sloshing around in my brain,
It all seems to flow down the drain!
Now...
Students. Always.
Gossiping,
Cheating,
Climbing their way to the top of the social food chain
In any way possible.
While I sit here on the side slide lines,
Contemplating why they try,
So hard for something that'll end in 4 years!
None of this means anything.
"It's all a test!"
"A meaningless game!"
That most students misunderstand
All the teachers complain now a days
It doesn't even matter they say
So long as they get paid
"Am I right?"
They care not for kids that sit in the back of the class
Their hands trembling at the thought of getting called on to speak
Or the kids whose bodies are shaking because they will have to present their project next,
"Oh, how meek!
School is harder for some people than it is others,
And sadly I am not the latter.
I'm bored in class
Because everything they teach is the same
Every year, the only difference is that there's more details, there's never any aim,
For what they try to teach.
This has driven me to an immense amount of boredom
I no longer have the ambition to learn something new
Because I'll already learn what I already knew!
Top that off with speeches, presentations, and reading in front of the class
*
"There, now you've made a girl as fragile as glass..."
Copywrite Ashrah
Just some thoughts on school
Aug 2015 · 967
Product of Overthinking
Deisphorios Aug 2015
dark thoughts,
energy lost,
where did it go?
mental wars,
oh, how they roar.
tell me, how did i get so low?

constant thievery of one’s mind,
now i've nothing left to hide behind.
i'm so tired,
tired.
what should i do now?
sleep,
sleep,
gain back the energy drained.
what’s more?
oh, there’s so much more,
inside the mind of someone who,
thinks,
thinks.
overthinking about overthinking
fun
© copywrite Ashrah
Aug 2015 · 575
Weight Of Words
Deisphorios Aug 2015
I find it heavily amusing,
                 What weight a simple phrase can carry.
I find it funny,
                 That a mere tone of voice can break someone’s will.
I find it entertaining,
                 That a scramble of words can bring out the worst of thoughts in a person.
I find it ridiculous,
               That such phrases,
                             Long forgotten,
                                          Can resurface,
                                                     *­In a matter of moments,

                                                       ­                 
In the dead of night.

I find all of this to be hilarious,*
                Because it happens to me **all the time.
© copywrite Ashrah
thoughts at 2:14 a.m.
now were getting somewhere
Aug 2015 · 1.2k
Boredom
Deisphorios Aug 2015
No matter how bright their eyes shine,
There's always this dullness in them that whispers,
"I'm bored with life."
They think I never notice.
But I do.
© copywrite Ashrah
because why not
thoughts at 1:20 a.m. amaright
Aug 2015 · 657
Shattered Glass
Deisphorios Aug 2015
Hidden within old stone grey walls,
With glass-less windows and ancient halls,
Lies one phenomenon
That breaks every law of fantasy,
Reality,
and myth,
Within the human mind.

If your eyes ever bestow upon this path,
you may find a sudden urge to walk down it.
This deep dark hallway
which no one wishes to enter,
holds the deepest secrets to your selfish interior.

And so, the shattered mirror sits,
On its throne of a wall.
The highest stature of them all.

Within every shattered piece of glass,
Shows a little story of your past.
When you look into the mirror, what is it you see?
Is it pain?
Is it grief?
Is it anxiety?
Perhaps, will it be the shining embers of your childhood?
or the damp ashes of your past?
There are no secrets here,
For the mirror sees through every layer and every wall you ever built.
You see every bit of your inner self.
The kind,
The evil,
And the guilt...
© copywrited

— The End —