A master baker
Beget laughter from velvet,
The sweet surrender.

To walk still, with pride
From a knife stuck from behind
Caked in bitter lies.

The story of my life
is
filled with multiple
attempts
at
trying not
to
**** everything up

It's hard trying
not
to
try so hard

You want
to
quit
but
for some reason
you just can't let go

You want
to
quit
but
you keep hoping

      hoping
    
                              hoping

            trying
  
trying

                      trying

          so

so

                 hard

but
no one
is there
to
see you
try

so

in the end
you
will
always
be
alone

but
you
still
can't
let go

so

you just
try

                                  try

         try

                        try

try

                                try

              try

try

Within every heart, there is a chain hooked up to a wall of flesh, blood and stone.

Scars open and cut too deeply, we rather thirst and drink our own blood then eat the molded food that the guards of fire and destruction serve us.

We try so hard to escape this hell inside our minds. But it almost seems impossible and mindless.

Every day, we live in a living nightmare. We would rather die than live another second in this kingdom of depression and wrath.

There is only one law, and the law is the image of death is nothing but a dream.  

We can try our hardest to desire the blood spill and the gushing out of beaten bones and origins to spill out of our weak and limp bodies, but all we'll do is spawn back into this waste land

Tears stream down the faces of many innocent broken people; they feast on each other like beast of a large skeleton bump sight,

We're tortured until our back bone is visible, and our voices are empty and numb.

Our fingers lay in pieces of flesh on the cold mossy stone floor from making meals for these zombies like monsters.

The meals are the hearts and frightened minds of our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters; we weep for them and wish for no comfort.

**I am the only prisoner in this Endless Fire Hell that has a window in their dang room. I can see a brighter, safer, more loving place just millions of miles away.

I often reach my hand out the window, to at least feel tiny drops of refreshing rain on my black burning skin.

I cry aloud, calling for some kind of help, but I know that calling and crying won't get me anywhere.

The rain drops are the only loving thing I have, for they heal my scar and fix my wounds, the only hopeful thing that my blurry eyes and beaten hands have ever seen and felt.

Under neither this dungeon in the sky, is a vast and cool ocean that I long to swim in the feeling of freedom and satisfaction.

Within every moment as I swim in the burning and melting lava pool, oh how the lava is stained by the blood and eyes of prisoners that have slowly melted away.

Their skin slowly ripping off their skull as they scream in a high and painful voice… Oh how I long to feel the rain. Oh how I long for it.

On one faithful day, there was a great down pour, and the rain drops starts to sing in harmony with serenity and joy, which caused the stones of bitterness that surround my window to give way and crumble and fall into the sea.

I smiled bright for the first time in 16 years. I took the chance and jumped, but then quickly grabbed hold of a left over stone, my arm stretched in pain.

How silly of me to just jump and not knowing if I’ll die and spawn back here or if the guards will see me in the ocean and band the rain from this Nether.

My Arm soon gave up its last strength as my ****** hand finally let the stone go. I could feel the rain, filling and soaking my entire body,

I crashed into the ocean, my eyes closed, and my mouth allowing the water of purity to drown me, my arms and leg motionless as I began to sink.

I would rather die in something I love, than live in something I hate...