I’m tired? Maybe.
I’d quit? Maybe.
I’m fine? Maybe.
Is it me? Not really.

Sometimes, this world feels finite.
When I’d remember my times
With a sense of nagging shame
Or Embarrassed by my name.

That I thought I was carefree,
When the sun came up
And the busking of flies,
Left the rain traces
Of smoky scent,
lingering in the wind.

All a shame, cause’ now,
It's a misery.
A resentment on life
But it isn’t fiery.

I’m just looking for a path of reconciliation
Who knows,
The real me ,
might lead me someday to my destination.

Captive within the bars
He waits.
Endless waiting
Every day the same,
Every tick of the clock is clear
And now, a day seems much longer
Receiving no kindness
For, he deserves none, they say
The anger at mind
Is struggling to burst out
But he knows better than that.
At first, was patient.
But now,
Fighting within to save the sanity
The God favors the truth, they say,
So, why an exception
Or did he look the other way?
When an innocent man’s life
Was decided against the truth.
Fate…
No other seems better to blame
For, one should not blame God, they say
Endless violence
Endless sufferings
But the worst is his struggle
Within, his innocent mind.
Once was a believer,
So there’s still hope, he thinks
Does God have a plan?
Or was this a cruel joke?
He, who waits,
Tries hard to believe
That still he has hope…

I'm beginning to lose myself. You caught me at the edge of something, I found you mourning your soul out.

All I want is to make it out on the other side, where or whenever that is.  

I'm beginning to lose faith in the rest of everything, and I've been sinking incredibly fast.

You saw me near my deepest point. We were moments away from never knowing anything at all..

I became displaced by the very things I've always needed most: people. I became disillusioned from it, literally. I started to become numb again.

I simply want to find home, I've never had that.

I sent songs that I had hoped could speak for me. I believe music is my last chance to convey anything meaningful, anymore. But, more than ever, even the wonders and visions I used to get when listening; that feeling, it's gone too, and I don't know how much longer it would continue to be anything pleasant, or meaningful to me, or even felt at all.

I'm struggling, caught between the lines of the sky above and the water below as the waves keep grasping at my neck and twisting my body down to the bones like I was designed to slip into that darkness underneath.

Im fighting myself to not become entirely numb and mute. I'm fighting to simply not give up on everything, and everyone, including myself.

I'm fighting to survive, when before it was an idle battle. This is the end of that strife, the last battlefield I'll step on, because I'm tired; my soul is so exhausted and dense with the misery that others wrought from themselves and put into me; I'm sad, ridden with holes as empty as the space between my silhouette and my shadow

I'm staggering here on this empty field looking for any semblance of a visage or sign of who and what is entirely, and only; and utterly on my side; a clear design of something that not only would want to give me hope, but could instill it; because without just that, I know this war is already lost..

It quivers the edge of my lips; my lungs scream, but the words exhale silently and unknown through bated breath; they dance within my mind and slowly creep into the crevasses where you fell, too, within my heart in places I left for you to live in; sharing truths you can't hear yet, making stories we have not lived yet: those words permeate my existence, except within my eyes, as they can only see what truly is.

But that's my secret, my dear..

It's that clear vision that lets me know, those words can only be true.

Putrid smells of dirtied innocence,
A veil of eager stupidity,
Misfortune converts to violence,
Roots caged by the ashes
Of what once was,
My hometown of resilience- staled,
Replaced with glory seekers
Spewing words void of value,
Pickets of dishonesty,
Weekends of gloom,
Shame.
I feel foolish as I reside here,
Bleeding within the garden of thorns,
Punctured by the claw of the bird.

Most People that say that they understand Your pain.
Do you really understand?

Do You know what its like to be waiting for a call that will never come?

Do you know how to know the end and yet hope for something better?

Do you know what its like to be left alone writhing on all the words that was never said and never heard?

Do you know how smooth her skin was when she held my hand?

Do you know how she made my chaotic world so calm and unburdened?

Do you know how far her absence wreaked havoc in my world  and let me delve right beyond the edge of the abyss that I wish I never knew?

Regret scratches at the edges of Grief,
Widening the hole left in my heart