It leaves its handprints on all that I see, and tarnishes all I touch with poison Feeds depression like a maggot, to deepen this cursed mire that is my place to be It snatches my thoughts away from all glee, and I wish I would vanish, be hidden And alone long for a secret Eden, for a decade it has tormented me
It told me: ”You will never have a hand to hold, nor starry eyes to madly love Alone you'll stay, you're too broken, cautious Your spirit forever burns with my brand, there will be no olive branch, no sweet dove” Thus spoke the cold, dead void called Loneliness
Written sometime in October 2016 after an all-encompassing, amazingly crushing sensation of loneliness.
I found that the cracks in my skin began to heal whenever the moonlight lingered by my window, during the nights when I let the wind bring in its cooling remedies.
I would sit still, lost in my head, With a storm brewing in my swollen heart, Ruminating as I opened my eyes, And I watched the dainty fabric of my curtains as they danced with the cold breeze. Slowly sunlight leaked into the sky as birds sang their delicate songs,
And I found my restlessness fast asleep on my palms. For a moment, time was standing still and I was...
the sun goes by, and it sets as we lie and ruminate in empty rooms inside our heads and the days come late while the nights draw near we run in circles on the hands of fate as we eat our fears one by one the moon goes by, and it sets the days are gone nothing but whispered threats but we draw blood and it drips on soil and mud during crashed road trips to a destination that dies as we grow close and it splits, divides crossroads.
There's a time in, dare I say, Every man's life where he must Choose between what is wrong And what is not going to help. He must be able to see that What is right will not be the correct answer; What is wrong will be the path to go. For in these times, a man will realize that What he seeks is not for him to obtain, But acknowledge it as a mirage on the horizon, Some distance away, On a course that would seal his fate. Lost at sea is the man who obtains what he seeks, For his worth he keeps in his shirt pocket, Limited by the darkness that surrounds it. He knows not the detriment that lurks below As he drowns in his own greed, Betrayed by the hands of his own god.