I’ve kept walking the same road since birth
   Few changes, mostly small, few big
      Relationships like leaves blossomed for a time then dried up and blew away.

   I remain, solely me. The agony..the ****** pain. My hurt, their hurt.... The deaths, the scars...made new every year. Yet I remain walking this long and lonely road. A candle burning at both ends. Memories and eternal hope...the only guides I have.
Oh God above..oh people..give me some relief.
    In the mirror I see a figure, I see him but I no longer feel his soul. I see creatures, I see trees..even roses but everything breaks with a certain touch. Was it me? Was my own hand to blame for the creation of this hollow shell that walks with no breath and eyes glossy?
  I’ll collapse eventually, breaking into millions of pieces and eventually turn to dust. My own words I no longer understand..gibberish. Reasons for living escape my grasp but I continue to walk...yes I continue to walk in agony and defeat. I’ll walk until I collapse only to remain broken forever more.

Clouds

“Friends that fly above so high, I wish I too could touch the sky and gently float unto my end. I’d watch humanity down below continue on in their futile struggle. Yet I’d wander far too low near the gentle and broken soul. And I too would would change in form, once again to the man that I was born.
I see now that I couldn’t join you up in the sky..my grief would change my calm and steady nature and so I could never reach your stature..so for now I’ll stay down here and perhaps one day I’ll let go my fear...”
VS
-John Marneslow

Merely A Man

Sweet girl, I know I’m not what you’re looking for, I’m not the right guy, this thought… It hurts me no matter how I try.

Sweetheart, you’re looking for more than a man, a hero, soldier… And that’s not what I am. No I’m nothing special, I’m just a man.
You said you wouldn’t leave me, you said you would stay, but now you’re gone and I’m not OK. You had a rare beauty, you had a rare light… how silly of me to think we’d be good for each other and that’d be alright.

Sweetheart I’m no soldier, I’m  merly  a man… Yes I’m so imperfect that some days I can hardly stand. And the days of our laughter it’s as though I could have reached out and touched you but now I can’t, Because you want to be in the arms of another, though it’s hard for me to understand… You want his hand to dry your tears but no not this man, despite how hard I’ve tried. For you it has to be a hero,  or soldier but I’m just a man. I no longer trust you, I no longer car.... your heart isn’t with me, yes, it’s no longer there. My own heart trembles and my thoughts lay in despair. Now that you’re gone...what’s the use in repair?
You aren’t the first to break me, you weren’t the first to destroy. But you were the first in years to bring Hope to my tears. Girls these days Want a hero, a soldier, a god, those things aren’t in me...it’s not what I’ve got. I’m just a broken man with a broken heart. All you are now is just memories to burn, yet deep down for you I still yearn. Sweet girl I loved you but that wasn’t enough, so now I go off into the rough. The lonely days, as old old friends they welcome me back. They ask what was it this time? Were you misunderstood? I reply and say no friends...I was simply no good.
-John Marneslow
VS

The Thoughts and experiences of a broken minded man.

He lived a life of self centered sorrow, always in mourning. He sought to make all things right.

He laughed, he cried, he felt.....yes, he was human.

He tried to love, only to find out no one wanted his unbridled love, a love that was like of a treasure first discovered by a child. Some thought his love overprotective, and so he was. As he protected and held on...he eventually lost. The more loss he felt, the more sorrow piled on him...until it was a mountain of guilt, sadness and regret. He sought out God and for a time he burned with a zealous rage to protect that which was righteous. That too turned to sorrow.

To him..people became a bother...and he was a bother to them. He understood that they only cared for fame and fortune and that pleasure was their god. So, he left the world alone and wanted nothing more of it and hoped that it saw him the same. He had nothing to boast about, he was not made of gold, but perhaps a rusted iron. Though not too aged...he was sturdy and uncompromising. He was no competitor nor did he like to compete. He had a luke warm sense of nothingness to him. Yet, some found him unique for a time...but they too would leave and turn their gaze. So he would return to solitude...for it was home.

In the midst of a party he was ever the enigmatic loner, he hated parties or social gatherings. To him parties and gatherings were just there so people could show off or find new ways to brag. When the boasting ran out...the drinking began. His rule for drinking...."drink alone though don't drink often."

As time passed and his sorrow grew, he turned inward to compile his thoughts. He shared his thoughts and pain with others but he found that to them....it was a burden too heavy and once again he was alone. He began to build walls around himself and even to this day he does so. Ever cautious.. so his brokenness cannot grow.

The brokenness he bears...such a heavy weight. he told himself "mind your words and lock away your heart...lest your brokenness escapes and destroys another innocent...adding to the mountain which sits upon your shoulders." How much longer can he hold up that which has already crushed him so?

Colder Still


In my life I have known love, loss, brokenness and betrayal. These things things are but a part of this lively vail. I accepted such things in hopes that I would prevail.
Though I’ve continued wandering through the misty avenues of life..I found only torment hurt and strife. All the while I heard a voice near at hush say...”you’ll grow colder still.”
I stood at many doors, yes doors to other hearts..I continued knocking, only to see them depart. So I stood in grief and began to lose my will...yet I heard the voice louder “you’ll grow colder still.”
As more years passed and people become more vain and conceited, I to my solitude and grief retreated... With my heart and with my will..the voice shouts now in command...”you’ll grow colder still!”
-John Marneslow