Sleep is my newest obsession
It endures from morning to night
Its rhythm repeats itself

Due gazing too much misery
My lids are wearied
Due too much weeping
My eyes have dried

By causing me enormous pain
Will your mind forget my being
Does your ego inflate
When from your sight I escape

I look back and see you floating
When you used to hold my hand
Now in hell I burn
While you depart indifferent

© Lips of Dust

My mind was on holiday
It couldn't quite take me far enough away
To escape your moral decay
I was always lured with bait
It took a decade to turn to hate
I'm sorry I left the party
I gazed into your eyes and saw tomorrow  
Only time will tell
If I broke the spell
It's not easy to leave you
In your rendition of hell

JAC 3d

When heaven and hell collide
Then we'll both be satisfied
Until then, we should stay
On our own.

She’s lost, though here – already gone
When you embrace her, you embrace the air
Who she is, who she was – what does it matter?
Her laugh is a memory, her presence helps not
She was never here, it’s just an illusion
We tell ourselves: she’s really here!
Be that as it may, she wills to not.
She was born the slave of another
Loosen the reigns? He will not.
Though you try, though you cry,
Your prayers fall on deaf ears – so it seems, anyway
Your God is listening, but forces none
She must see, she must believe
She can’t see: she’s fading away
Though here, she’s really not.
‘Tis a memory, she sees it not.
She races to and fro, she loves and shares
Yet living, she’s certainly a ghost
For what is her existence but a memory?
Though she’s now, soon she’s past
Forever gone, forever lost
A creature made in the likeness of her creator,
Made to be, rather than be not
She chose to not, she chose to live
But wouldn’t see in living, she was really not
Now you have eternity to forget:
She was there, though she was not

From my book, "Aimless Wanderer"
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1544626347
Quinn 4d

Hell is full of the misunderstood
Innocent souls who tried to do good
Twisted into something dark
Their wrath becomes a tangible mark
Who is to help them,
When they’re already condemned?
Is there someone to help you?
What can anyone do?
Haven is full of the suck-up’s
They got in by the poison in your cup
Who is to oppose them,
When they know of your own sin?
Where can you go?
That won’t cost your soul?

DEW 5d

And were it not for the sun
would there be dream?
Would cloud cry upon the day?
I would find, you and I, slavishly cuddled ‘round dragon breath
and every sight would be for sore eyes, lest they be blind.
Every man would be a beggar.
Children cackle in the dark.
Women, free of childbirth, are instead consumed by the world.
Without the sun there is no age.
We are what we haven’t chosen to be.
This is what I see when you’re not with me.
Emptiness separating reality from understanding.
And I call to you.
And I call to you.
And I scream for you!
And I boil alive in the broth of my own anger...
Whatever I can cook up to feed the hunger that you inspire.
But
a peace shatters the storm.
A shaft of light jousts the gloom like heavenly charioteer.
What else could it be?
It is you, so long as you shine for me.

I should be writing more often, but this will do for now.

Enjoy :)

DEW
The Lonely Bard Jan 2015

When I was recovering,
I used to get false sensations,
To urinate and I got illusions.

I thought that my parents were ghosts,
And so was I in hell under many pains,
That was when I was recovering.

My HP Poem #754
©Atul Kaushal
Dark Delusion May 15

The scarred life I’ve lived.
The awful things I’ve regretted.
The times I’ve wished for death.
The tomorrow’s that never came.

The light, the shadows.
The shape of my life.
The night’s of despair.
The world known as hell.

The place I call home.
The beings I call family.
The evolution of my memories.
The experience of my existence.

This is not what I wanted to live in.
It’s not how it’s supposed to be.
The world is stopped in time.
Everyone’s lost in reality.

Go to sleep and never wake up again.
You’ve gotten past everyone’s lies.
You’re free from the chain.
You saw the world through closed eyes.

If the bleak songbirds tweet sweetly,
          and the morning dew engulfs your senses,
                    the world may be a delightful place.
If the short sighs of time
          be replaced with the cheers of redeeming grace,
                    may the world rotate ‘round your glee.
But should the songbirds retire,
should the dew evaporate,
          should time move ever so slowly,
          and should grace seem forever lost,
                    the world may still be delightful
                    and may still move to your pace.
You must seek the good
          even in a seemingly hellish place.

written 5/12/17
Haasje May 12

Two lights flashed.
Darkness.
One light in the distance.
Growing.
I'm getting closer.
slowly.
Suddenly I'm there.
Blinded.
I hear a dark voice.
Whispering.
Welcome to the family.
Forever.

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