I get back up, every time. I get back up.
So maybe I don't get back up the same. So maybe I'm a little lost
And a little bruised and a little fed up.
I get back up. And I let you look down on me and belittle me,
For staring you hard in the eyes and panting as I hoist my weight off my knees and elbows, and rise back up to spit at your feet.

I let you see my tears and my pleas and my need, so maybe it's not your fault if you've forgotten
All the times I've gotten back up from having fallen,
And I do it on my own all the time.
I don't feel sorry for how many times I've grabbed a shovel. I feel sorry you haven't seen all the things I've buried and gotten on top of, when I've used the shovel to dig myself out instead of hitting rock bottom.
What it is, is a pity you forgot everything that made me strong.

Because I will keep rising, long after you're gone.

your scars -  a road map;
sad, endless tales spreading far
of battles once fought.

One night walking on the sidewalk
Head directed towards the phone, not the mood for talk
Bumped into a lamppost
Noticed it shined more light on my path than most
Said hello and moved on, at the moment I didn’t realize
The light could repel evil lies and equalise, keep me alive and provide key allies
Should have stayed in the light
Then battling the dark would have been a, somewhat fair fight.

There was still a spark,
Still the smallest of flames,
Left over from the hell
That my life used to be.

For a while,
I thought it was gone.
Controlled and out of fuel.
But it never disappeared.
It lived off my smallest fears
And unexplainable doubts.

And when the one person
Who could control this hell fire
Left me when I needed them most,
The spark ignited
And the flame consumed me.

It burns my soul,
The smoke is choking me.
And with all the negative emotions
That I can't help but feel,
The fire only seems to grow.

It provides for my demons,
Makes them even stronger.
I don't want to lose myself again,
But they're the only thing
I hear in my head.

I have to battle them again,
But I'm already so tired.
Perhaps it is time,
I let my demons take over.

I feel as if I'm alone in a field
Army charging at me and all I have is this shield
In this battle I am the only one
Me vs them
I bet you can predict who won
I really did try to change the outcome
But there's too many of them and too little of me
There's water in my eyes they blur I can't see
I put up my hands I put up a fight
Still to be knocked down
In my sight now blue and white  
The clouds are moving fast
The feet around me trampling past
I build up some strength I get to my feet
When my vision is clear I see I'm staring back at me

In younger years, I dreamt
about flying over lakes and mountains,
and I dreamt about *******
slutty women in ****** motels.
Sometimes I battled noble samurai
on ancient Japanese hillsides.
I've lived out those subconscious musings
in one form or another.
Now, I rarely remember dreams.
The few that stand out are simple
reflections of life's boring troubles.
Maybe the trick is to find new adventures
that will keep our dreamscapes active,
interesting, forever alive.

It is coming
A gathering storm
Of men, swords, and horses
Ready to spill the blood of their fellow man
For reasons unknown
Except only to them

Brother strikes down brother
Family is forgotten in this storm
There are no bonds, nothing to distract them
Only a desire to ****

Blood shall be spilt
Bones shall be broken
As we observe this clash of blades
With smiles on our faces

I've been swimming all my life.

Treading; Floating.

Inside the infinity of all infinity pools.

Yet I never learned how to swim-


                                                                              Until I learned
                                                                              I could drown.