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andrew-p-marheinePoems
I choke on words that matter the most, For fear of their losing meaning. I stumble over actions I should have carried out And then deny my original feeling. I carry along with me a heart of hatred So evil, so destitute. It makes me only dream more of solace, Of two souls imbued. When "she" and "her" become "mine", I will only sing songs to her, Dedicated in rhyme and loss, My eyes, an aquifer. - The lonliness is a waning prison, The despair is a refilling chalice, I drink from it repeatedly, And force it down with violent malice. I bring it upon myself, Because I cannot see within, I am never more than what I expect, Where could I ever begin? - I ask for an angel next to me At night to keep me still, One for me to hold, cherishing Her docile lull until She yet awakens each morning And drowns me in goddess-like trance, One cannot make decisions Until one has his own stance. I know not where I am going, Nor what I will find along The lonesome road I walk each night, A road where I'd rather not be alone. A hand to hold, a strength to give, I want and need to feel, But inside it burns, it hurts even, Hatred is all that is real. So my angel, be you out there, Waiting so patiently, If I'm allowed to yet meet you, Let us meet then, presently, Stop me before the abyss is my soul And I'll try and sew on the wings I ripped off My back, while you walk among my thoughts, I will dream of you and I, while my nightmares wonder, And think of all the words I should've said and fought.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
A Matter Of Flaw.
I choke on words that matter the most, For fear of their losing meaning. I stumble over actions I should have carried out And then deny my original feeling. I carry along with me a heart of hatred So evil, so destitute. It makes me only dream more of solace, Of two souls imbued. When "she" and "her" become "mine", I will only sing songs to her, Dedicated in rhyme and loss, My eyes, an aquifer. - The lonliness is a waning prison, The despair is a refilling chalice, I drink from it repeatedly, And force it down with violent malice. I bring it upon myself, Because I cannot see within, I am never more than what I expect, Where could I ever begin? - I ask for an angel next to me At night to keep me still, One for me to hold, cherishing Her docile lull until She yet awakens each morning And drowns me in goddess-like trance, One cannot make decisions Until one has his own stance. I know not where I am going, Nor what I will find along The lonesome road I walk each night, A road where I'd rather not be alone. A hand to hold, a strength to give, I want and need to feel, But inside it burns, it hurts even, Hatred is all that is real. So my angel, be you out there, Waiting so patiently, If I'm allowed to yet meet you, Let us meet then, presently, Stop me before the abyss is my soul And I'll try and sew on the wings I ripped off My back, while you walk among my thoughts, I will dream of you and I, while my nightmares wonder, And think of all the words I should've said and fought.
andrew-p-marheine
Written by
andrew-p-marheine
American
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
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