You're the sun I miss every night

If living life is a duty,
I have failed miserably in carrying it out,
Like a warrior with no courage at heart,
The sight unseen leaves me with a wish to depart,
I reside on a battlefield,
Petrified for my life,
Alas,
The idea of survival seems more enticing than success,
I am living perfectly the life you wish for me to live,
Like a soldier on A battle with themselves,
But if I accept it's your triumph,
But I don't value me enough to struggle,
For myself,

My heart is stuck in time,
Praying that in all hope lost ,
a purpose it finds,
It doesn't beat,
It's became painfully boring and quite as a mime,
Avid for a pulse,
That alligns,
Encompassed by fear and dread,
It doesn't wish to leave whats familiar, behind
Shall it ever find gratitude in discomfort of time?
Or shall it face the unfathomable regret of a lifetime,
Is it stuck in repentance or greed?
In both ways it can't have what it needs ,
Induced by the futile hopes of time ,
It wishes to be more of a crow than a mime,
And hum it's own tune ,
Thats sorrowful yet refined,
A raw tune upon which others are adversity inclined,
Steadfast he continues wishing it's their music palette that's unrefined,
He sings,
Until a salivation is unearthed,
Until the trees dance and harmonize to his broken tune,
Alas,
He finds himself deluded,
In hopes ,
Someone would discern his tune to be a pleasant produce of time ,

A perpetually illuminant why,
Has adorned me to believe,
My passion is to cry,
My passion is to grieve,
Patronised to my beings extent,
Is a limerence to being content,

Do not ask me who I am
Ask me why I am
For that will give me peace
An affirmation of my existence
Amongst the many others God created
A lamb to the slaughter?
who understands the sacrifice she is going to be  put up for and makes peace with it
A clown in a Circus?
One who's duality knows no bounds
A looming shadow?
One with a beating heart
A crow amongst the doves?
Shrewd and menacing
A grasshopper in an ants colony?
Who understands life best in the depth of it's ruins

What kind of life does he life if not astray?
Drinking his vows away,
He has mastered a simple lie,
He says he doesn't pry,
Yet he looks around in hope,
In pursuit of his answer to why,
Why is it that he madly deluded himself?
Why is it that he doesn't find himself well?
Why does he borrow,when his nature is to give?
Why has he swallowed his own guilt?
A  plaintiff of his own crimes,
A hypocrite and an insect,
Shriveled up in the hopes of summer,
Only to find himself trampled and deserted,
Suffocated under the knowledge of his distasteful being,
He finds himself aligned to a menacing repercussion,
The cause of it all he has yet to attain,
He inquiries ,"Why do you wish for me to live when I find it all in vain?"

Is the anguish in our heart burned along our body in hell
Do we hate god no more?
Is heaven a immoral ecstacy?
How could the sinless crave something so evil ?
As evil as the idea of heaven
Where we are to feast and the cries of those on hell reach our hearts no more,
Is heaven inhuman?
What of a sinner who sined against himself,
Will he be forgiven of the,
Sin of harm,
Sin of neglect,
Sin of distrust,
Sin of silence among the weeping in the crowd where he is found dead by his very own hands.

How good and awarding is the destructive truth that runs through my very flesh?
Is it any better than my sins?
Both an abyss of disturbance,
For neither can be perceived as a saint,
Nor a Satanist,
Obfuscated I turn to skies,
For my heart is breaking because it relies on the futility of my nature
But i can't find the answer

I hide myself away so beautifully,
So I am perceived as an art form and nothing else,
Mimicking a mannequin,
An undeniably inhuman Facade upholds me,
A mere antique is all I can claim to be,
Inhabited in which is a crack,
That i pledges to veil,
Until,
Draps are drawn,
And amused audience embrace their ways to home,

It is there,
Under the splendid sun unweathered,
The moon lights Kindle and rekindle,
Under the stars stuck in repentance,
Unlike their perpetuality,
It is there,
The urge to redraw myself,
Into the reflection of others perfection,
To be spun in accordance to what lies,
behind those shallow eyes,
My complexity beyond compare,
Not sincere,
Am I the art or the painter?
Because I destroy myself so beautifully,
A symphony sung and unsung all at once,
Broken cords that heal themselves whole.

Until my voice shrivels up,
Until what breaks me is induced to make me,
Until I find gratitude in discomfort,
Until there is a cease to this fuel
cursed to burn forever,
In envy and greed,
Until a salivation is unearthed,
Until the trees dance and harmonize to my broken tune,
Until hope is found,
Until I am not a mere whisper that dies on the tongue,
Until in all hope lost a purpose is found ,
Until I no longer wish to die in solitude,
Until I question the reason to sing this medieval tale,
Until I halt and shatter and melt away,
I must sing this ancient song.

Why do I have to earn the salvation I seek?
To be so intervened in discomfort so deeply,
I sculpture a home in it,
I bestride me in delusion,
My inconsistence towards my self,
Ignites a flame in which I burn alive,
Thus
My memories are mere ashes
And I no longer remember your name nor mine,
My inconsistency of will,
Of mind and thoughts,
Of love,
Of meaning,
It invokes of my burdens and failure,
Bewitched to inconspicuousness,
Nothing descends upon me,
But mountain of realization,
That transgresses on all my hopes,
I am hopeless,
A fool,
A puppet of the greatest puppeteer,
An unvalued one,
My theory is based off nothing,
Thus,
I am too a void,
Driven to soak up everyone's essence,
Desperate as a sponge.

A juggler who juggles no *****,
A defeated entity of time,
A humorous attempt of nature to give,
As it was desperate to not  have it's summer hue stolen,
A child of autumn, perceived as the colour brown,
A deserted colour,yet profound,
He swings obsessively,
Deluded in a harsh desire to love,
He imitates the spring,
But his flowers wilt without a cause,
Compelled by a maddening desir,
He corrupts the produce of summer,
He feels avenged,
He was a lost cause.

Devoted to a vexing repercussion,
Tangible emptiness espoused to my memories,
"Where do I keep you?" I wonder,
Symbolically,my heart is a coal,
You will grow weary of it's coldness,
Symbolically,a soul I am not comprised off
However shall you feel my warmth?
Symbolically I am a blank canvas stained with red
Shall you saviour the scars that bleed?
Symbolically, attuned to madness I have become
Shall you join me in its depths?
As I am it's vessel like no other.

Can we be more than just a  produce for this world?
Conjoined to the core so I can claim you mine,
So I can feel more than your flesh and blood,
So I can feel your soul and it's innocence,
With a quill I shall write our sorrows together,
Yet describing the depth of your eyes is all my quill is bound to do,
You colonized my heart with one embrace,
Claiming everything yours,
It was already yours,
But I would rather write than say,
It's all a shattered spectacle can do,
The hum of your heart is rather enticing,
Its coarse yet delicate how surprising,
"You are a whim of my heart" is all I can say
A whim that shall never perish and ruin me away

I have yet to feel warm in this stagnant cold water,

I have yet to become my father's loving daughter.

I befall in deception yet again,
As you drank my blood in a wine glass,
Your mere presence leaves me crippled of senses other than my sight,
My heart beat induces every other sense numb,
It beats louder and louder,
Ensuing on me a maddening repercussion,
spirals of emotions swarm,
While my flesh rots,
As I have loved you with every vessel and there is none of me left,
Nothing more than a shadow,
That worships your presence,
And devours it's self in your absence,
My selfishness fails to Reason Infront of your heartless arrogance,
Indeed,
You have fueled a bizarre touch to my nature,
Yet,
my heart hums a tune in envy wishing for you to satiate me with your presence,
And engage with my hearts hollowness by being a permanent dweller,
So I can thrive in oblivion of my own tangible  hollowness,
I am deceased until you pour within me life,
Drop by drop,
But then you flicker a fire to watch me burn,
Your mistaken to think I have not  burned to ashes,
For I  am a moth for your flame,

No tear can simmer down the breeze of the ocean inside،
No temple gives this sinner the place to hide,
Death sounds dearer to me than I,
Whose command shall I comply?,
Shead some light that doesn't blind me so,
Shead some light on this black crow.

I desire to create,
What remains unperceived,
Unrepairable faith in it's authentic self,
Unscathed by anothers opinion or morals,
Their hopes and desires,
The birth of such a rebellious idea remains unearthed,
I want it raw,
But God despises it,
The idea of being challenged,
So all left of my thoughts is the binding vision of tomorrow,
A vision of hope,
That ensues an ameliorating repercussion on my mental capacity,
Concluding the idea of a saviour,
And Of my passion and greed,
Greed to learn something I shall never master,

I am like darkness seeing the sun shine,
Eluding jealousy a tale so refined,
They have worshiped the sun the stars,
Alas,I am like the moon the reason of whose praise is yet to define,
Forged with sorrows I steal the light,
Always wishing of the sun to set so I can have my rise,
Am I just am alternative I ask getting a sigh in response,
Maybe you will know your worth one day till then be warned not to go astray,
The intangible replies on whose hands the whole world lies.

When I am so very easily moulded,
You use me,
And I am content when used,
That's the mystery of my nature,
I have a burning urge to be acknowledged,
You hear me my Lord,
And like the people,
you do not wish to listen,
You do not wish to acknowledge a fault in your making,
I am the fault in your making.
Broken and perturbed.

The god who I hold so dear,
Wishes to have me nowhere near,
He partakes me within his closure,
Yet veils me of his signs,
Alas,
Distain espouses within,
Where does he want me gone?,
When it's his earth I lay upon,
May I inquire of my cause?
May I know what I was?
For I do not find me befit,
The sea left to lie,
to dry,
A devil with no temptations,
Nor the urge to pry,
Like a fatigue who's tiredness is due,
I am content with loitering,
The only source of hope that I cradle like a mother,
Is the possibility of you,
But there is no love,
Only hope,
Oh how I long for freedom,
Like the bird that never meets the sky,
I have espoused within what is expected,
So now I am breaking because I was never in my hands,
And I learnt that the hand of god/People isn't very gentle.

Admonished to partake,
This world I forsake,
And chirp over their cries,
For it's befit to realise,
Everything is bound to cease,
For none is there a release,
Dogma prevails over a soil to which tomorrow has no avail,
magnanimity subdued,
For our ******* ways has us all induced,
The way of life we have confused,
Authority is misused,
Enchant Misdemeanor craze,
Endeavour to earn,
Alas,
A salvation remains unlearnt,
Sea of hypocrisy and blood left awake,
A whim has lead me askew,
To simmer no hope,
To wilt In no lies,
To not be loved to conjure in a hearty demise,
"The earth is a blemished mess",
The sun sings to the skies,
Stuck in repentance the stars nod,
Bitterness espouses,
As i unearth in my creed,
A fabulous truth,
To which man pays no heed.

I am the pit in your sand,
My heart is the flesh in your hand,
I am the prayer that died on the devil's tongue،
I am the air that rises from the smokers lung،

We grace the sky by keeping sane and alive,
So it's not protecting a barren land,
And retains it's purpose,
Although my lifelessness would encourage,
A deserted deceased body,
Over a lifeless one,
Do I have the right to despise the tarnish in the monsoon sky?
The flowers and rain,
The ceaseless beauty of this land makes me sick,
Neither am I right full to chase it nor have it,
I have been bleeding while only noticing the beauty of my blood,
With its throbbing pain going unnoticed,
Because it's all I have been allowed to see,
My nature propells me to admire what I see,
My feeble cry of destain,
Abolished by the thundering sound of the rain,
I have successfully pursued your hate,
Yet,
I am not satisfied.

It is a contagious ill,that has saddened my will,
A rash that I timidly approach,
And times when this world is saddened,
It's an itch that thrives,
It's has lead me to question,
Should I not stand where others thrive?,
I simmer beyond sense,
Boil in hopes of repentance,
To be one with myself yet again,
Inevitably I scratch the reap to keep me sane,
All around me is a baffling aide,
To pursue a realisation that this world has left my side,
It's creater alone I cannot keep,
For my heart is sealed with heap,
Of a wound that sources blood,
And dear to me is the way it floods,
Now grey is this heart,
It answers with a lie,
It has sensed it's contagious ill,
So it doesn't learn it's way to others life.

Every day I die a certain way,
My sky is isn't infinite needless to say,
But under a sky you live,
That's not abandoned and astray,
The stars are for you to perceive,
In the horror of night skies darkness,
In darkness I grieve,
My God is different,
Mine is indifferent,
Not a friend nor a foe.

Birds cannot nest in the sky,
Even if in the sky they wish to perpetually pry,
The earth sinks them in over time their bodies turn weary and thin,
They flap in the distant sky,
Oblivious to my envious eye,
Oh how i yearn to flap my wings,
Ruminate no longer of my sufferings,
Know no god or his mercy,
Know no greed to have mans heed,

I want to love,
So I can prove that
I am not completely lost,
In the hurdles of time,
And that there is a heart,
If not for me,
I wish for it to beat for the existence of another,
So my being can find a purpose,
I am in a a state of constant desperation,
To learn and to be learnt,
By heart,
So that I am never forgotten,
So that I may linger without consequences.

I overpour with secrets of myraid temptations,
So foul it would make one's mind sway,
And simmer satans glee,
So raw,
They associate blood with lust,
And flesh and skin as an element of desire and worship,
So menacing yet delightful,
Pleasure that Involves both the extremes,
A symphony of constant humiliation,
On his knees shall he reside,
Begging to unearth more of the pleasure,
It's permanent reminder on his body shall remain,
In the form of a scar,
Reminding him of the pleasure and pain,

My heart is breaking because it relies on the futility of my nature,
I fear,
My nature's rigidness to accept oblivion,
Will cause me to loose something very dear,
How long should I run knowing that I'll be caught?,
In my own tragic tale and the borders of my mind,
What I have become is my biggest failure,
I cannot support myself,
Neither do I wish myself well,
Until embraced by tides of warmth,
That have yet to approach,
As what simmers in the ocean of memories is beyond my control,
And helplessly I continue to cherish that one memory of warmth.

Like the rose pricked from it's own thorns,
I have lead the rein to my destruction,
I cohabitate with loss,
That stems from my very own blood,
Thus my blood is a curse,
It heals,
And when I cut it,
is pours,
It lets me live and drown while ashore,
I am drowned in my blood
Yet my thirst isn't quenched

What aghast consumes us to not share a lil of what we have,
Is it being bereft of our nature?
Our astounding nature to love,
Why have we locked it deep within hatred,
So one must suffer,
To have what we were made to already give,
What inspires you to hate?
It is for a fact a misleading virtue,
It doesn't strengthen the roots of ones power,
It robs and dwindles a lil of his nature as a man,
And makes him unrecognisable,
a stranger to those familiar,
So tell me dear father,
Why do you hate?
What is the cause of your perpetual anguish?

The land is calling for me absurdly,
To be loved and exploited no more,
I must drench in this blood spilled earth,
Encharging me to reclaim it as my purpose,
The sky,a gazer,
And oft a weeper for the lands man,
The world has never felt so woven,
And melancholy slipped itself back in this sinners hand,
Alas,
My world has never felt so scattered ,
I felt so shallow and all felt so bland,
Though in these marshes I find,
An escape for a life time,
The path unfollowed follows my mind,
The path unfollowed mocks me blind,
And entrenches deeply in my wound,
Now in the path of the wild I must swoon,
To reclaim my sight,
To dream of nature is to dream of youth,
Although the flowers and their wilting ways have me doubt my days,
She is held so high,
And her wilting has me escape a sigh,
She awaits as if betrayed,
From the remedy that the nature has made.

Oh old man you swing and pray
Your mystery beyond perception one would say

Oh old man you earn the sigh of the streets
But yet on your tongue the claim of his love repeats

Oh old man your praise ceases not your pain
The praise of the one who made you insane

Oh old man everyone dies in your sight
Other than the almighty,the one always right

Oh old man do you merely **** time
All you have become is mine
With others your words dont rhyme

Oh old man what of those you left unattended
Has their love for you descended?
For they pity not your search?
While you proclaim you have all unearthed.

Oh dear muse my zeal for you is so profuse
Oh muse I feel so unused
Debarred of that lingering gaze
Debarred of my flesh awake or an avid grin
Perpetually behoved to stay ashen
No yearner in sight
All have left to write or your praise
Their heart besotted their mind in haze
For your beauty plummets their craze
What of my sullen face?
How ever shall this daunting envy replace?
To be whispered and not sighed
To lay in arms while I cried
For my imperfection to be a myth
To have not fears within sit
To not ***** while they search for their rose
I have envy and I am afraid it shows

I couldn't rhyme this feeling of despair,
It's a tarnish like none other,
a convulsion of my nature,
Unconsciously I contrived,
This feeling of despair,
To be so very near,
I looked for god under its shadows,
I jabbed and stabbed,
How could a god so near,
Have me famished for his love and fear,
Alas I found,
Man is meat and despair is hound,
Cunning days leave me counting,
Passing hours fueled with longing,
Sonorous shill of my heart I deplete,
For under all this abhor,
I have found peace in release,
Release of despair that I protect like the spoils of war with in myself.

She harpens the mute,
Which makes them sing their soul,
For within her poetry they find,
Their relentless souls,
Their relentless sorrows,
A whim of time induced fate,
To betray her,
For her to sow to no reap,
Within her bounteous heart such injustice couldn't seep,
So now she spills the nectar of her being,
She spill words of poetry,
She spill tears.

I reside in shallow desires,
That have burned to ashes,
A mere swine swindler and a mime,
Are my traits to define,
Exhibiting aimlessness,
I watch the stars align,
And for God to show me a sign,

Like a River sullen in misery,
Knowing it will have to fit In a pond,
I besiege my reach,
And so I preach,
My heart to not have it's way,
Now as a pond,
I reside without a say.

I am what I chose to be,
A calamity I rose to be,
Ascension of it all was a prayer,
To be no hearts souvenir,
To dispell,be forgotten and veiled,
Now,
Within claws of solitude have I been enslaved,
I begged for his pity,
Now I am scarred,
A misfortunate heart,
Who can't decipher right or wrong,
Who is woven in a sorrowful song,
A decor of stars I wished to be,
Tranquility in me I wished to see,
I prayed to him,
To slay the moon ,
For me to be the vessel for it's light to swoon.

I sight in vain,
the cause of my distain,
A slur of hope to be washed away
by the pain,
Espoused to unfortune,
I weep and weep,
For the love I find,
is the one I cannot Keep

I am a rage room,
Expliots of yesterday tumble within,
They see no shore,their voice goes thin,
They pry ,they seek this anger bashes them meek,
I trace these walls with a tender persuit,
To veil the blood that I ensued,
I'm these walls of flesh in an out,
Escape is clutched and dissolves within,
For in this rage room death is a sin,
I admire and then retire to these braided walls,
So perfectly aligned yet in all odds,
Rose i have never come to see,
Since when did beeding from the thorns become my destiny?

Shall I spill words?
Shall I spill tears?
Or Shall I spill blood?
Indegenious to my nature is the fact,
That it can't stay,
It needs to flow,
It needs to be felt and heard by another existence,
A much kinder and understanding one
Hitherto,
the sacrifice to spill has left a dauntingly adverse repression,
Nothing has sustained,
all has been robbed,
"Shall I spill away all that has been left of me?"she wonders

Beads that solemn glow,
Perk up my eyes with tragedies and flow,
Ensnaring my whim to wipe it away,
The tears that descend,
My body drowned in marks of spear,
In my hands I kindle a flame,
Tear to my flesh its pain so sour,
A hearty jubilance collapses in dismay,
My thoughts forfeit a mere clump of hay,
There is no afterlife to who doesn't believe,
Apart from this life there is more to grieve,
Am I a timeless portrait hoping to decay?,
Am I the assumed thrill of tomorrow and the obfuscation of today?,
My thoughts thinned to a buzzing sound,
Threads that break over a shallow woe,
A soul that bleeds,
The  swine it beholds,
I need a quilt,
For in this world I have gone cold.

To debark the root of evi,
l was lead to myself,
Was in ecstacy at that time so it was hard to tell,
I had fallen below that of an ****,
My loyalties had changed and so had my heart
No matter how much I weave it again
This spiders web Is in distain
Turned an tossed, left to rot
My selfish desires invoke no guilt
Now that I can not flee from the web that I have built

Will I find you in Spring?
Immersed in profound happiness,
Or do I look for you in autumn?
In the depths of my despair,
Hollow and brittle,
Like the leaves.