He pulled the trigger and it was done.
Relief from remorse, there would be none.
Nothing he could do to make this right.
Never would he sleep another night.

He had been wronged, and that part was true.
It didn’t excuse it. He’d wronged too.
Fleeing the scene, he had run to hide.
**** him, and **** all his foolish pride.

He knew inside it would do no good.
His feet took him deep into the wood.
Waiting, thinking that was someone’s son.
If he could go back. Not buy the gun.

When they brought in the dog, he was caught.
His greatest sin, and it was for not.
Now he spends his days inside a cage.
He’s racked with guilt, and ravaged by rage.

Well aware that it’s what he deserves.
The greater punishment is his nerves.
Shame takes over, he’ll never be loose.
Late one night, his own hands tie the noose.

Water crashes.
Rumbles and echoes on the rocks.
Cool mist fills the air.
Above, a river falls off a cliff,
while below, it falls off another.
A bridge beneath my feet.
Green plants.
People taking pictures.
A wooden lodge for dining,
with a gift shop.
The hum of a freeway.
A river with barges.
The sound of a train.
The wild meets man,
at the waterfall.

The ten men were doomed to die.
They marched the ***** to the gate on high.
As they entered the arena, the sun shone bright.
For each of them it would be their last light.

The crowd booed at the villains of this bout.
They had not a warrior to tout.
Across from them, another gate.
So this would be their fate.

As it rose, a chariot came,
Two men riding in the unfair game.
Clad in armor and wielding bows.
Then three of the dead men rose.

Cut down in a flash,
their blood did splash.
Seven left as the chariot rounded the bend,
it was coming to rampage and rend.

It barreled through them, arrows flying,
more and more men dying.
Another round and three did remain.
The chariot was their bane.

Then it stopped, the two jumped off,
The larger let out a cough.
They charged at the three, one who was hurt,
His was the first blood to soil the dirt.

Two on two, the fight began fast,
the dead men’s blades were easy to get past.
They fought their best,
but the two soul’s found rest.

Blood all over the ground,
down the fight wound,
and the audience saw no plight,
as they cheered their champions all that night.

The knife draws across the skin,
the pain blocks pain from deep within.
Endorphin’s rush into the brain,
am I crazy? Am I insane?

An addiction forms and I know,
there’s no good place for this to go.
But how to stop when my soul hurts so,
I try to grasp I try to grow.

Loved ones help,
and form a shield,
for certain moments,
I am healed.

But the truth, the desire still persists,
the fight goes on, my brain insists.
This demon may fight me, scar me and shake me,
but I swear by god he will never break me.

I found a valley dark and red with blood.
Emotions bound inside released, a flood.

An intense craving for physical pain.
Is this the sign of someone who’s insane?

I’d drag a serrated edge on my skin.
Not resisting, I let the darkness in.

And afterwards I couldn’t get it out.
Reeling inside I’d scream and cry and shout.

It kept going, till it overtook me,
and it wasn’t going to let me be.

What scared me the most was wanting to stay,
and dwell in the darkness every day.

So then I felt like I had popped my top.
Truthfully, I didn’t want it to stop.

The pain had a way to make me alive,
but if I continued I’d not survive.

If I did more, and it was still going,
the scars on my legs would keep on growing.

Finally I was able to end it.
Others helping me get out of the pit.

It’s an ongoing and a constant fight.
Resisting the cravings every night.

So this poem I made for those of you,
who are like me, fighting this demon too.

You are not alone. It may feel that way.
If you’re suffering, don’t be scared to say.

Steady thumping, thumping.
The boat travels downstream.
The water is brown, from silt.
The current is swift but calm.
Trees line the edges of the river.
Green foliage, thick on both sides.
The sky is blue with white clouds.
A bridge passes overhead, with cars.
Downriver, a large load is being pushed,
to the locks in the dam up ahead.
The water is deep now and dark.
An eagle cries out, and lets fly.
I bring the small vessel to a stop,
and watch all around me.
A train on the side of the water,
the barge moving away,
trucks on a freeway above,
the hum of shipping goods,
and the beauty of nature in one.
Tranquility, and constant motion.
I slowly begin to turn around,
and begin the steady trek,
upriver to where I began.

A quiet snow lined roadway.
A bird singing on a telephone line.
Footprints in the snow.
A path I’ve not walked.
Around another bend.
The song drifts off,
and a rabbit bounces its way.
The trees have icicles.
Now the world is cloaked in quiet,
but for the crunch of my boots,
and breathing.
Heavy breathing from the cold.
A few more bends.
Back to what I know.
Just a little longer,
till fire welcomes me.