Saturday morning were spent swallowed up in books,
Instead of surfing channels,
searching for a show to try and satisfy my thirst for adventure,
Yet each one was a satisfactory and savor-less as the last.

Instead, I lost myself in novels,
Books filled by dauntless tales
Of daring heroes and damsels in distress,
Of dreams who dared to dreams,
Of champions decided their own destiny,
Not deterred by the disheartened and the disturbed.

But these glory days faded away
because  apparently growing up meant
Giving up my golden dreams
To gluttonous people who tried to play god.

I sank low into my self pity,
Sadness slowly swept over my thoughts
Sorrow spat upon my sorry face
As I slowly submitted to the cold surrender of solitude.

Soon all music became mediocre,
Each melody, meaningless.
Mirrors became mortifying, for I could see the merciless monster inside me
turn me into a mental mausoleum;
It's mocking hammered through my malleable mind,
And bombard me with a myriad of maddening thoughts.

And so I isolated myself on a insomniac island,
alone with the insidious thoughts,
Inventing an imaginary monster to
inspire my icy heart.

Alas, there crept a creature, created in the cobwebbed corners of my mind,
cold and cryptic -
A creature I couldn't control.

It began setting siege against me,
Attacking the architecture of my mental mind mansion,
Tearing through my train of thought
Creating chaos that completely corrupted and  corroded my consciousness.



And the beast's name is Anxiety.

I hide my pain behind my smile,
A mask build by the fairy tales I've read about with happy endings.
I sleep on a bed made of insomnia,
As I struggle to figure out who I am
And you ask me if I'm ok

I'm a captain, trying to stay afloat of a sea of sorrows,
Because the boat I built basiced on my trust of others
Has broken into a million pieces.
Many a Times have I had to break my arms,
To be able to pull the knife out of my back.
And you ask if I'm ok

I fill my mind with knowledge,
In order to block out the voices of my demons,
Whose whispers cut like swords,
The sharp tongue of one bend on tearing down everyone.
I fight wars with willpower and focus,
Against the monsters I see when I look in the mirror,
And you ask if I'm ok.

I search for a sliver light in the depths of my mind,
Only to find the spotlight of guilt,
Highlighting the errors in my path
The destruction, chaos and loss I've left behind,
And you ask if I'm ok.

I'm trapped behind a layer ice,
Made from the cold blood that runs through my veins,
As I slowly suffocate on the promises I broke.
Like a willow in the mist of a tornado
My soul feels like it is getting ripped straight from my chest,
And you ask if I'm ok.

You ask if I'm ok, yer I reply simply...yes.
Now it is your turn.
Are you ok?
Are you really ok?

My mind is a void of darkness,
The absence of light,
The gears in my head,
Have rusted over;
The lightbulb has burnt out.
I am the last one,
Of the Order of the Grey.
The rest have fallen and gone astray.
When death greets me like an old friend,
My secrets will disappear.

-Shadow Prince, Guardian of Secrets,
Of the Order of the Grey.

I was, and am different,
A beam of light in darkness,
But others sought after me,
To shut off the light,
and become like them.
I resisted, and the cost was great.

They wanted me to be a people pleaser,
To not follow the rules,
To be just like them.

They bullied me, from day to day,
Just to get me to break.
I moved on and tried to ignore them,
But they never gave up.

I resisted until the end,
All the while staying strong.
But the years of sorrow and pain
Didn't leave without a price to pay.

A heart of stone, frozen in time,
A wandering hero, destined to roam

They took my pride, confidence,
and my voice.
They stole my life and striped me of what made me, me.

And all that's left is another shadow

I have sought knowledge,
And knowledge did I receive.
I’ve read of kings and queens that rise and fall,
Kingdoms that have rules the world,
Just to crumble like dust.
Wars that have literary ripped countries apart,
And separate families by walls concrete and tears.

But knowledge doesn’t come without a price.

It has opened my eyes,
And I know everything is not as it seems.
I see people who masquerade around,
Hiding their true face.
And now the question comes to you.

Who are you truly,
Who is that broken spirit inside,
That you have hid?
Beaten and oppressed,
Never to see the light of day,
Forced into hiding because of…

You.

You left yourself there,
And let you rot.
Because you never finished the fight.
You let the insults beat you down,
And instead of resisting, you gave up.
Caved in,
Curled up,
Forever chained to you past.
You bare a burden on your back,
A shadow the makes you never forget.
Scars across your heart,
Designed for you to never forget.

Who am I to accuse you of this?
Because I have searched.
And because this is me.

And in the end,
When the curtains close and the lights dim,
And the masks come off,
Who will you be?
A shadow of your former self,
Carried by the strings of those who you allowed to control you?
But then my journey’s through,
I’m just a mad man with a pen.

My life has never been a clear path,
In fact, I doubt there was a path in the first place.
I had to climb over trees, go through thorns, topple tyrants,
Swim upstream, and fight through storms.
For me, giving up is a safe passage way,
But on Earth, there is no safe place.

Every point in on my path that was clear,
I knew it wouldn't last,
Every eye of the hurricane I had,
I knew it wouldn’t last.
But I kept moving,
But I know I’m not alone.

I know this place isn't my home,
Nor anyplace on this Earth,
But I move on.
I do not belong on this blue, terrestrial ball,
Nor my citizenship belong to any country,
But I move on.

I know I am always being watched over,
Whether in valleys full of darkness,
Or the mountains that touch the sky.
He is, was, and forever will always be,
And he will always be there for me.
No shadow can cover his love,
Nor cloud darken his compassion.

He keeps my path straight,
And my feet upright.
He is my light in the mist,
My vision in stormy places.
Day to day, I strive to be like him,
But I fall short.
But do I give up, and take the easy way out?
No.

My journey isn't over, though.
I still have mountains to climb and valleys to cross.
All the while, I’m looking above, dreaming of a place
Where suffering will end, tears will be dried,
we will be healed and be with him, in glory.

My life has never been a clear path,
In fact, I doubt there was a path in the first place.
But I know my goal.