Austere, aged trees standing since years.
Shrubs, grasses and wild flowers abound.
Similar in appearance, grave after grave.
Serenity everywhere, tranquility surround.

But matter is different from beneath the earth.
Serenity is just an illusion beneath the skies.
Let not the perpetual calmness deceive them.
All those who look with their worldly eyes.

Their deeds accompany them in their graves.
All alone the dead ones never dwell.
Grave is but a garden from gardens of heaven.
Or it is just a pit from the pits of the hell.

Have you ever felt like your in a pit?
A deep dark pit
That absorbs all light and hope
And you try to climb out of it
Up and up
Towards the light
Towards the happiness
And your almost there
And you can feel you spirit lifting
Stretching for the bright day
But then you misplace your hand
Or the rocks give out under your feet
And you fall
Back down
And you hit the bottom
And you feel like you can't do it again
And all you want to do is curl up in a little ball and cry
And so you lay there and sob
But after a bit you feel stronger
And you try the climb again.

Sometimes you will fall and slip
And sometimes you will reach the top
But no matter what you have to try
You have to climb
Because if you don't
Then you'll be stuck there forever
So try to the climb
Because you can do it.
You are strong.
And I believe in you.

I'm falling down a deep dark pit
There is no footholds to save me from the fall
The walls are closing in around me
Not sure if they will crush me before I hit the bottom
Or I'll just hit the bottom
In this deep dark pit their is no light
No light to my darkness
No friends
No love
No hope
No light
Darkness
Forever.

its easier
to fall back into
old habits
than to fall out off them

because who falls
out of a hole -
especially
when you arent even sure
where it begins
and where it ends?

I would have been anybody's angel;
I didn't mind the love.
The halo in the shimmering lights as I spin, dances behind
As the wings, the feathered dreams, tower on the other side.
It's greener, you know.
It's greener and darker.
And here, staggering along the pit between goodness and liberty,
I have to ask, "What good am I, anyway?"
I'm no good on my own,
So I could be anybody's angel.

I always had a connection to ciggarettes because they quite frankly reminded me of myself.

Like : how people desired them so desperately when they were miserable , how people valued them so intensly when they burned away all their troubles and treated them with such caution.

But, then I connected with them because as soon as I burned out ( became fragile and fell into a temperate pit of darkness ) my ashes fell to the ground. I was stepped upon and left all alone on the numbing winter soil alongside the damp mist and minute insects.

This is where I found my family. Other humankind just like me, mortals who have been stepped upon and wounded emotionally and demanded when needed and then suddenly despised and judged ; judged for solely declaring their beliefs. Beings that have been disregarded from communities for merely attempting to combat the injustices of our corrupt society.

My family and I thought we would resurrect and magically become unbroken and desirable again.

But darling not all stories have happy endings .

In the ash
Burnt pit of despair
I find my fear
Dipped in the blood of my ancestors
My blade greets me
I am whole
a man
amongst men
My bones echo back through the centuries
Through the earth,
Mountains,
Rivers...
Carrying the spirit of the land
To rejoin the souls of old
With those now standing tall.
A robin sings
and moves from branch to ground
Hunts
Fearless
Protective
Arisen from ash
Pit
Harmony

As hard as I try,
I can't confide
in myself,
to think of better...
...happier
...less depressing things...
My mind is the opposite of a moth,
it flies away from the light,
...craving darkness, at the bottomless pit of the abyss that is my soul...

Weaving to the pulse of a room.
The thick blend of sweat and passion is cast out to the hungry.
As the assault eases there is a moment of calm.
A deep breath before the machine gun fire.
Seconds before everything comes crashing down;
An onslaught you know well.
Heavy hits from limbs, belts, and bones as adrenaline
Allows you to give as good as you get and show that you care;
Show that you do this because you have to;
That the pulse owns all and has full control.
I salute those who can make a room implode;
Those who rip everything from you so you have to face it.
The bruises remind us that we were there
And we share the fallout,
Because we live for that ****.