Thy soul shall find itself alone
’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude
  Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
  In life before thee are again
In death around thee—and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.
The night—tho’ clear—shall frown—
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given—
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee forever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish—
Now are visions ne’er to vanish—
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more—like dew-drops from the grass.
The breeze—the breath of God—is still—
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken,
  Is a symbol and a token—
  How it hangs upon the trees,
  A mystery of mysteries!

There are some qualities—some incorporate things,
  That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
  From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a twofold Silence—sea and shore—
  Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
  Newly with grass o’ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name’s “No More.”
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!
  No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)
  Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod
No foot of man), commend thyself to God!

Lifes not fair and not everybody is scared because not everybody cares,

Let's take what we choose and leave alone the frozen throne I've stood in line behind just to glance at the face of my dead savior one more time,

And it's not okay but being okay might be a feeling I'll feel one day

With a shake and a shiver my lip might quiver but a tear in my eye you won't find

I'm lost with no direction or place to call my own and you can take this shining example of a new start and go shove it up your *** because I don't need it

I don't need it

Life's not fair

There's a hole in my pocket
And the memory of who I wanted to be fell through and into the cracks in-between the floorboards
I can't seem to retrieve the concept of who I once was,

It's getting colder outside, and my brick walls have been crumbling as of late
And the inside of this house isn't exactly beautifully picturesque

The soul I've stolen for show and tell isn't my own and he's much nicer
than the thief underneath

So please, do me a favor,

And leave

Dying love in a gilded cage,
Imprisoned by my pent up rage.
You never loved me, but neither did I,
The last gift you gave was the gift of goodbye.