I had become more aware of my surroundings. With my obscured vision, I trembled up the mountainous stairs, to find comfort in my divan. The wind blundered and blasted the shutters allowing shivers to roar down my spine. I drew the covers restlessly over my body. Sleep would not grace me with its presence as I tossed and turned, thrashing about the bed. Why did it feel so unwelcoming, so foreign to my touch? My eyes drifted towards the window in search of comfort. Wind cried from the heavens as the maleficent feathered silhouette made himself known. My vision began to haze as my eyes settled into the crevices of my head. I couldn’t take it anymore, the fierce gaze of the raven was too much for my heart to bear. I clambered to my feet and made my way to the kitchen, stumbling through the halls as the wine took effect. As I clung to the kitchen door-frame, there it was; my means to an end. With an unholy determination, I grabbed the pearl gripped revolver that lay on the kitchen counter besides the key to the cabinet. How it got there, I haven’t the slightest idea. I was inhibited within an ineludibly eternal oblivion.
My mind filled with hatred towards the ruffled being as my sweaty palms grasped the bronze handle that I flung open with the desire to end this misery bestowed within my soul. I had of **** it for this misery to end, I was compelled to end its life. The raven vanished as if knowing my pursuit.
This was it. Barefoot I ran, though my legs were long past exhaustion, I kept running. Trepidation had driven all other thoughts from my mind, leaving the only instinctive urge to abscond. And so I ran.

This one, signed as myself and not my pen name, is a new step for me, I've never really put myself into my work, but this one is all me. Thus, it is called:
.

BARED SOUL

Life moves on
and things become too real.
A wife. Kids. Career.
It’s too much, I want to run away.

Everything has changed with
my position in the world.
I’ve never fit in
Always the freak who knows no limits,
the one who sits alone and minds his own.

Never understood, never accepted.
Now a husband, a dad, still the same.
Always covering up myself; hiding
behind wit and cruelty.

A shield to disappear into,
Afraid to be me; to send up alone.
I used to know who I was but
now I’m not so sure.

It seems I have my life sorted out,
but am I really happy?

A question I always find myself asking
but can never answer.
I don’t think anyone knows the meaning of happiness,
or if it really exists.

Tonight I found myself holding her close,
and as I rested my head on her chest,
I quietly try not to cry.

It’s hard sometimes to keep it all in,
to hold strong so as not to lose myself,
it’s why I write as I do.

An outlet through a pen is all I have,
only the page wont judge,
won’t declare me a freak,
won’t know that something is wrong with me.

The thoughts I have,
my inability to empathize with other’s pain and loss.
It makes me wonder if I’m right for this world.

I’ve been to two funerals,
one I barely knew, the other I held dear.
And lost a grandfather who meant everything,
yet I never shed a tear.

I used to think that it was because I am strong,
but now maybe that isn’t so.

Who am I really?
I think I need to know.

With locks the color of a raven she kneels,
To place before me a life lost.

For this is my realm
where I hold true,
to the life devoid of light.

And she is but one of many,
a servant like the rest.
Now she kneels where few have knelt before.

She lifts her head to meet my gaze,
and though it was in defiance, I cannot help but falter.

The loss in her eyes is that of the others,
yet into my soul her gaze has burrowed.

One has long since been lost to reside in this place,
some more so than others.

And though I know her name not,
nor her story have I heard,

I cannot look away as a single tear falls
and lands upon the life lost,

To land upon that Ebony Rose.

Here I kneel at the river's edge,
Gazing out at the life beyond the tear in my eye.

I can still see you sitting next to me by our log,
years ago when we shared our first picnic.

I'm remembering the way we used to run through these trees
and swim through those currents,

the scent of your jasmine perfume
following us wherever we go.

I can almost smell it now as I hang my head
and lay this bouquet upon your tear soaked resting place.

The darkest of skies
bring forth creatures of
inhumanity. From us they feed,
terror, sorrow, misery.

With their bottomless pits
that straddle the nose,
drawing us out, drinking us in. The
enchantment unbreakable.

Control is theirs alone, yes
they know. They hold the chips,
deciding out fates.
So we hide.

Yet from the screech of death
we cannot escape.
The sealing of ears does not suffice,
the horror penetrates the thickest of barriers.
Cowering, we wait

and watch the shadows
of these wingéd frights,
circling overhead in the hunt
to feed. Searching carefully
for a meal; for us. Until finally

the darkest of skies begin to lighten. The
damnedest of beings flee to their shelters,
fearing for their lives. And

should the young wake and see,
these creatures of death, would be to end
the airborne demons.

Fore it is the innocence of a child so small,
that they dare not corrupt.

The blazing sun beating down,
snowing no mercy.

The hills of sand hot to the touch,
no end in sight.

The cacti surrounding, growing stronger,
fairing much better than I.

The life within me growing faint
as I lay here dying, baking within,

The water in my canteen long since gone.
much like the moisture in me.

The end is here, my days are done,
this desert has brought me
sweet relief.

Whispering Shadows
Looming behind every corner,
Deadly Creatures
Waiting within.

Rivers of Blood
Flowing across wooden floors,
Forgotten Memories
Coming near.

Radiating Darkness
You are it's source.
Deadly Wishes
Seeking escape.

Excruciating Pain
Maintaining your sanity,
While Damning Forces
Battle within

A cloak of shadows worn,
A mask to cover all emotion,
to hide one's true self.

No one must know.
No one will know.

We are destined to live a life unseen.

Marching through the shadows
seeking shelter; vengeance.
For ourselves; For those who have betrayed us.

Marching through the shadows
lost within the void.
Inside this swamp; Inside our souls.

Marching through the shadows
looking for the light.
Of freedom; Of Peace.

Hidden in the night's embrace,
we seek innocence
but out pasts have left us none.

Beneath the skies so black,
we seek shelter
but life leaves us in an open field.

Under the shadows, we search
for one last meal,
but the soil was never fertile.