A Tree
Sat steadily at the centre of an endless field.
Never still.
Its branches grow, then fall.
From nothing, to green, then only decay,
Even the leaves come and go.
Yet, always there sits a shadow, constant behind the everblooming oak.

A boy fiddles with an apple as he sits within the shade.
He does not wander, only sits and plays,
Gnawing away at the fruits born.

One day I stumbled forward,
Falling into a bed of roses.
The thorns ceased to ***** as before.
They cradled me so cosy.

I found myself at a loss for words...
How could this be real?
After all the Hell I'd travelled through,
Set afire in search of a Heaven,
I'd so easily fumbled my way through its gates,
And seen a beauty I could never dream nor feel.

No, that's not it.
Maybe Heaven had found me?
Why would the Gods have blessed me so?
Why now? Why here? Wh-...

She held my hand,
And pulled me in close.

My questions quelled,
And I found an answer beyond any words my head could think.

...
...
...
Still
...
...
...
Still.
...
...
still.
...
still...
­-

Silence is the only ingredient necessary
For my mind to unravel into anarchy.

There are none.

Zero that can find the rhythm my heart beats to.
Zero that see the pain in my smile.
Zero that know how my head runs.
Zero that bothers to dig past the surface.
Zero that both to ask the question.
Zero that bother to hear the answer.

I wish there were some.

I Hate It.

Somewhere along the line I must have sinned,
What other explanation is there for this situation I'm in.
Imprisoned, in shackles, while one or both above and below cackle.

I am not permitted anything more than a glimpse,
Slivers of light through silver bars
That only remind me how dark is Dark.

I looking longingly towards solitude without temptation,
Yet I cannot separate the two.

Now I have an answer to a question I never before thought to ask...

Limbo is worse than Hell,
For you may still glimpse at the beauty of worlds above.

Lately I find I only write on pain
Feeling that it is all that is within me,
And nothing I do
Can wrench the feel from my heart.


Rotting...
Rotting...
Rotting...

I fear it has taken root...




I no longer see myself without it.