As a young man (30ish)
Sat alone in a room,
His feeble voice
Rang out:
"If there's anyone here,
Please talk to me."

"Help!" He continued.
"I've gotta go
To the bathroom.
Please, help me!"
Echoed his broken,
Lame voice.

Sadly, his cry
Fell on deaf ears.

I've seen him
Throw himself down,
And banging his head
On the floor--
In a loud voice,  
Cursed God continuously.

With a lamenting voice,
He prayed to die.
And yet, he lived.

In pitious ragings,
He'd severely
Threaten others.
But with family,
He remained utterly calm.
Only his family
Could console him.

My heart ached for him,
As my eyes welled with tears.
For, you see,
He was young and blind.

Unfortunately,
He was a young blind man,
Consumed by his blindness.

In the cusp of closing night, I look into your weary eyes;
once outshining city lights. I see no way to realize
the healing of this blight - I venture to make a phoenix cry.
Remedy of such mythos might, might just prove unjust lies.
Chance restoring your ere vacant sight - fighting soul’s primal guide.
As any chance to restore my bride, binds our fractured lives.

...No words to describe affliction already decided.

"The Agonies"


The agonied afflictions
Universal push
Of process
Unbidden

Could I in my own efforts, pick myself up if I were dead?
Could I in my own efforts, heal the wounds which I continue to inflict
Could I in my own efforts, prepare to mend the sickness for which I have no cure?
Could I in my own effort, become the person I want too, but don't have the means to become

Could I in my own efforts, harness the power and the strength that I simply do not possess on my own
could I possibly in my own efforts, conquer something in my past that I have failed to over come

The answer is elegant yet most simple, of course I could not!
Could I in my own efforts fall to my knees
Could I in my own efforts, weep and lay still
Could I in my own efforts, move not one inch
Could I in my own efforts, utter a cry for help
Could I in my own efforts be liberated?
Not without a liberator good and strong to break down the gates
And I ask myself will I call for such liberation

The answer has come when I fear I shall not be liberated.
And so in my state I confess that I, am in need of a liberator

I try avoiding emotions.
I'm a criminal,
and they're bounty hunters.

I fear my mind.

They chase me down.
Syrens echo from behind,
pinning down thoughts
with "love" on their badges.

God forbade happiness.
I took a chance
and ran through the storm.
He threw lightning and fire down the road
but didn't stop me.
I said,"To hell with it";
the clouds finally parted
and bade,"Amen."

The sun was brighter.

I talk to an owl
who's more than a friend.
Our youth's gone with the wind.
He doesn't know how much this means.
****, it might be too late.

That never bothered him none.

Visions come and go
with Hollywood scandal and rumor.
And I envision peace
like the millenial I apparently am.
I ask myself,
"Who do I think I am?"

Another man gets shot
and services air on the news.
The uproar gets absurd.

We burn dinosaurs
and holes in Purgatory.
Now we live in digital Hell
but there's no place like home.

Confrontation takes zen
and throws it to the dogs.
It runs through my mind like,
"Who do you think you are?"
Must it come to this
every time I think?

My afflictions may never be heard.

The madness, the darkness has come seeping in,
once again I am burdened with my sin,
The thoughts, they swirl in a crazed tempo,
beating against my skull with the desperate fury of a dying heart.

I am drowning under a tide of pensive dispair,
Struggling to even gasp for air,
Oh! I lament my own awareness,
my jealousy is reserved for the blind.

Surely, I must be mad!
How could I not be with such anguish I am clad,
One true question remains.
Will I fade, implode, or explode with such force as to devastate my own?

Run! My darkness is no longer a flame lazing,
but an inferno blazing,
We all have our afflictions, mine is thought.