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Bound to a destiny encased in brass,
I await the fateful day,
Standing by,
Feigning my existence all the while,
Holding the beast at bay.
I lust for the grasp of hope's embrace.
The gentle slumber of no further worries.

I crave the eyes in which I will drown,
and the restful days within them.
My heartless time rivers flow'd.
My restless adversary.

My thoughtless mind had show'd,
My inundated tributary.

Flood'd,
By the sleepless anxiety.
Constant reminders of my perfectionist's folly;
My immortal immorality.

My logic's subsided.
Sanity's mistaken.
Slow'd to a dull roar,
Blowing in the wind.

My Intuition's annulment,
Blind'd by the songless hymns.
That heartbeat melody,
What set me on the brim.

My Mindless heart.
My heartless mind.
This is life,
In this peaceless soul of mine.

Time is my commodity,
Ever so rare,
What has me blind,
To this peace of time.

Perhaps, somewhere in this mind,
Ever so scared,
I may yet find,
This peace of mine.

~Robert van Lingen
Blanket eyes,
Close, to see the light.

Drift,
Further from the shining bright.

Open wide,
To see the blight.

That which,
Leaves with dreams of flight.

Goodbye, fateful might,
For once again,
I will sleep tonight.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I am the ugly duckling.
I am the doorless key.
I am the page forever unstained.
I am the beginningless story.

I am the man,
with no home.

I am,
The soul,
With no hope,
No trust,
No penance,
No closure,
No love,
No peace...

No humanity.

I,
am not lost,
For I was never even meant to be found.

~Robert van Lingen
I need the path,
That I do not have.

Kicked while I'm down,
Lost in surveyance of my barren mindscape.
Littered with hopes and dreams,
That were just too far from reach.
Not even worth trying for anymore.
Kicked aside like tin cans on an empty highway.

I dare not even muster the strength to take a harmless peek,
Because emptiness isn't worth the effort.

Standing in the center of an endless road,
Going in no particular direction.
I don't know where to go.


~Robert van Lingen
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