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Maybe I can't save you
maybe you can't save me
but maybe we can fall apart together...
The ghosts of emptiness still linger about me, reanimating the corpses of long buried memories, as well as those fresh in the grave. As they writhe in their inebriated waltz, delighting on the flesh of my insanity, pain blossoms across the field of every sensation; every emotion. Every vision I behold is infected with the essence of the knowledge that this has all happened before, as it will ever after, reverberating lunacy throughout the depths of my soul. Devastatingly intoxicating, I suffer in such bittersweet ecstasy in having gained from this life both laughter and madness. Despite it all, a smile lights upon my lips as I embrace the fact that though this tragedy may not be mine alone, it is the one thing no one has ever been able to take from me.
Would not let me indent the first line.
I stare into your sightless scars as blood, like pain, comes raining down
And try to understand the reasons you have thrown yourself away
Mistakes befall us all, and you can't say that it was all your fault
Because a cruel ******* kept you subject unto fear and pain
And oh, I wish that I could take away from you those years and scars
And take upon myself the task of causing your tormentor pain
But some things just cannot be done when miles keep us separated
Words are all there are to offer and it's driving me insane
I turn my tear-streamed face into the maddened bliss of red descending
Letting crimson flows dissolve the salty stains of agony
Wishing I could find a way to say that you've been long deserving
So much more than you have come to let yourself believe
And there I see, above it all, a heart so full of grief and doubt
Consumed with so much hate for self, forgiveness cannot penetrate
Memories that every day betray and cast their chains of slavery
Keeping your heart prisoner, allowing thoughts to devastate
I reach out with my very soul, embracing your imprisoned heart
And summon all the love that one can possibly command
Concentrating every effort on the breaking of the chains
So you will not deceive yourself, and let yourself be ******
And oh, the woeful chorus of the angels who are now descending
Circling about you as I try to break the chains that bind
There I see the crimson rain is falling from the eyes of heaven
As the efforts of those very angels and my own combine
They sing of sweet forgiveness, and of letting go of pain unending
I wrap your heart more tightly in my love for you, both heart and soul
Angels whisper, "Oh dear heart, we're doing all that we can do.
It's up to you to break the chains and let your pain and self-hate go."
I shout above the choir, "Can't you see that you are loved?"
Praying you will understand that you have always had the key
Let it go, this pain and hate which you have fashioned as your cell
I can't lose you, my Angel.  Can't you see you are the heart of me?
This was written several years ago for one of my best friends who at one time I was deeply in love with, and only more so as time passes. Angie, my love, my dark angel. My Angiel.
So long I’ve been struggling with myself
Can’t find the words to make you understand my pain
The voices taking me belong to no one else
It eats away and it’s driving me insane

I think I’ve lost my mind, and now I’ve lost my way
No matter how I try I can’t make it go away
Is it such a crime to want to end this pain?
I wish that I could find some peace of mind before I die

Sleepless days, and nights that never end
A living hell inside a waking dream
Am I a zombie?
Am I the living dead?
When did laughter begin to drown the scream?

To think there was a time when I could stand and say
I’m happy just to be the man I am today
Somewhere down this line, my life began to fade
But you can’t take a life that’s already gone
I think I’ve lost my mind and now I’ve lost my way
No matter how I try I can’t make it go away
Is it such a crime to want to end this pain?
I wish that I could find some peace of mind before I die
I wrote this song a few years ago to a tune my friend came up with. I was in one of the lowest points in my depression, after having lost everything and thinking nothing would ever get better.
Have you ever talked with a skull atop a stone
In the middle of the night as the wind begins to moan?
You will find it sometimes lies to get you to believe
And that it sometimes cries so as to deceive
But you find you're always there as the moon comes back each night
Even though your very soul begins to swell with fright

Tonight, the skull, it sings a song, and begs you to join in
You begin to sing and find it tells the death of men
When the song is over, you notice you're alone
You have just become another skull atop a stone
The very first poem I ever wrote, at the age of sixteen. It is about how if we give more mind to the death of great minds than the lives they lived, we are missing out on what life can truly be, even through the lowest times and hardest struggles. It was an assignment for English class, and a decision between an essay or a poem. This is what started me writing.
Be careful what you wish for
Be careful what you pray
For the memory of what may pass
May haunt your every day
Take it as you leave it
But leave not what you take
For the future of tomorrow
May not learn from our mistakes
Seek out hidden beauty
Even on the darkest days
For the world would have you blinded
By its standards and clichés
Send it with a whisper
Receive it with a scream
But show you no emotion
Lest they feed upon your dreams
For we have been sedated
By the narrow minded ways
Of the preferences of masses
Who set standards and abhor
The triumph of devotion
And emotions we have claimed
In all they fail to see
And fail to fight for anymore
The world keeps on forgetting
Just how beautiful it feels
To be exactly who you are
Instead of trying to conform
As we are deemed eccentric
Or looked down upon as odd
Even hated for our differences
And sometimes, just ignored
By those who cry, “Be different!”
Yet still refuse to change
Unless directed by collectives
As they string themselves along
When did we become the outcasts?
When did we become absurd
For loving what they’ve come to hate
Before our time is gone?
Maybe it’s not only
That they’ve given up their dreams
Just maybe, and quite simply
They’ve been sleeping far too long
Sheathed in the darkest of pure enchantment, I am left mystified and intrigued…bound by the spell that is you. My very essence reaches out to you, searching for purchase along such a treacherously even ***** in this barren waste, longing for the tears of heaven to fall from questionable skies that loom, but never quench, exhaling a breath of wind that caresses, yet never consumes, giving power to the sorrow that now takes wing and soars to heights unknown.
First line should be indented. Would not allow me to post it that way.
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