I can't stand this reflection
Because I'm reminded of all the tension
I could barely breathe,
when I saw my soul leave

Bones rattled in loneliness
I became defenseless,
while you were rageful and senseless
You relished in my fears
and the dejectedness of my tears

I was your enemy,
and eventually we learned
My heart innocently yearned,
but instead your hate intensely BURNED

I should have found it shocking,
when I found out you were lying
Your grin exposed it all
You were going to make me fall

I simply waited-even as you slashed me
I craved to be free
Inside, all my depression-spilled out in screams and tears
For a second, your eyes reflected fears

You left me, clinging to life and bleeding...
Was your heart still human-and beating...?

I allowed myself to be merely defeated by you.

Humanity is losing its infinite
wisdom of recognition.

The penny were losing is more
precious than any material.

We are defeated in the essence
of our humanity that is dwindling.

"Our humanity is that which echoes on our being,
*"The substance that makes us more than not,

You claimed to be my knight
       delivering me from demons
             But it was you, I needed saving from
                             It was you all along.

Now i'm here
But where's here?
What's here?
Scary faces?
Hacked up children?
Death lingers here
I'm sure...
But what's this
Oh
It's just your mothers dead corpse
How sweet
This place they call earth
But really it's really just hell
But you on the other hand
Are my life's work
I'll never understand you
Because you're human.

Lost battle of a wounded soldier
Have I lost or given it all up?
But for now
The Autumn is on me
It all has ended
But I don't give up
I keep walking
Walking wounded
Dragging my tattered body
Along a Withered soul
At crossroads of Autmn
Where is the spring?
No flowers will bloom
I am not dispirited but for a moment
I deter
I fear
For this paused moment
I realise
I have lost the battle
Standing outside my house thinking
Do I have a right on this gate
I am a soldier defeated by life
Churning out bitter juices of negativity
I feel like a stranger in my own house
I disown my things
I laugh and and enter the house again
I have my flute, my water colours,aisle, brushes and other drawing tools inside

I just feel there is
Something immortal
Inside our veins,
And perhaps I am conceited
But I mean it.

You make eternity
Possible with your gentle
swords of hands,
And perhaps I am defeated
But I feel it.


-- Eleanor

You appear when I least expect
And send my head careening.
All the old fears and inadequacies
Stick to the bile rising in my throat.
And I can't speak
To save myself.

Once again
You smirk at my silence.

You win.