The Game Is Over.

A vicious cycle
Comes crashing to an end
Twelve years
Was long enough
Twelve years
It's been a long road out of hell

Angry words--I've had enough
Can you hear this? As we come to an end
The truth-
The bitter truth

Can you feel the weight off my heart
You wanted me to sink among your demons, I know how to swim

The light that shone like the sun
The light I finally saw was from the
Burning of our bridges.

A vicious cycle
Came crashing to an end
I can finally breathe
This game is over

Amen.

I orchestrate your violent butterflies
Fluttering and morphing into bees with big eyes
"Honey shed your chitin and be mine"
Your guardian angel and savior so divine

The strings of your heart as my violin
My grand concerto hypnotized you to sin
Made me your deity, my boat your place of worship
I welcomed your unholiness aboard my precious ship

Sailed through the clouds and into the stars
Set off on a light-speed expedition to Mars
When we returned to wander the Earth's seas
I found myself a slave to all your pleas

Mistress of this vessel yet so caged and lonely
When did I feed you so much power over me?
She was mine but I didn’t recognize
Tainted and defiled because of my lies

Her body and sails were painted red and blue
To much better suit and satisfy you
Irreverence to your deity, desecration to my shrine
I could only watch while you took all that was mine

A glimpse of land and gardens so close
Sparked a flame of hope in my life of shadows
I sprouted wings and the sun began beaming
Lighting up the rocks where waves were crashing

I raised her sails with one final goal
To free myself and take back my control
With cold confidence, I steadied my helm, directed my bow
Crashed her down like Dawson to Davy in the depths below.

To the lush daisy gardens, I go
The farthest place from you that I know
My freedom was what I chose
Shortly after, your heart froze
My fault for not giving you a clearer sign
But all my displays to you were benign
So, alone I searched for the beams of my mind
But its collapsed architecture was all I could find
Immense guilt because of a simple truth
The sense of our doomed future I ignored in my youth
But life and love are meant to be lived
Freed my sense to be gone with the wind
My annoyance and displeasure would spew
Every waking second and whenever you'd call
Because long before you ever boarded, I knew
That we wouldn't make it anywhere at all

I run ,
and I run,
And manage to go nowhere.
Yet you are everywhere.
Without even so much as a glimmer of a memory, you resurface.
You refuse to be bottled up and it shows.

Some days you are steam and smoke.
Other days you're as gentle as bubbles floating by.
But mostly, You show up all washed up along the shores of my mind.
A subtle but ever present memory of You.

But I run. I dodge. I swiftly swat the lingering thoughts that waft through my head.

Sometimes you're a raging voice,
Or the silver sound of laughter rippling through.
You just can't be restricted, can you ?

So tell me how I should best rid you of my life.
Because it seems at this point;
Running is futile.

No one could ever dream to have you beat
in self destruction, self pity and defeat,
it’s almost bittersweet.
But you get by, it’s you not I,
you get by with a plan to only die.
Yes you get by, with any chance to cry,
never noticing another’s sigh.

You know with all the licks you’ve been taking,
we’re both surprised that you’re still waking.
Oh and with the hits you’ll keep taking,
don’t be surprised that you’re still shaking.

Let’s get straight to the root of the problem,
slam our heads together; we’ll forget if not solve them.
So what’s your story you’ve got for me today?

I am no stranger to your sad tales,
though you push them right off the rails,
and my own attempt is exempt and always fails,
I’d have better luck pitching them as sales.
As you’d get by, just for a high,
only to try with your plan to die.
Yes you get by, it’s always you not I,
claiming life’s got you in it’s eye.

You know with all the kicks you’ve been taking,
it’s a wonder you’re still not breaking.
Oh and all the tricks you’ve been making,
are you shocked we think you’re faking?

Let’s get straight to the root of the problem,
you act the saint and cast I as the goblin.
So what’s your story, exaggerated allegory, today?
Let’s cut right to the root of the issue,
my hands are full but do you need a tissue?
I’ll say sorry, just ignore me and what I have to say.

So open up the bursting flood gate
direct the flow to where I seem to wait,
it’s truly my ears that suffer the most,
I abandoned thought not my post, though I now am late.
But you get by, and still yet defy
magnify on your plans to die.
You’ll always get by, call it a lie,
focusing on rain ignoring you’re dry.

Oh with all the trips you’ve been taking,
It’s no surprise you’ve been strongly flaking.
And with the drips and the lies that have been caking,
you can’t comprehend anyone else aching.

So let’s get straight to the root of the problem,
I’ll start a list and another separate column.
So what’s your story, for attention or glory today?
Let’s cut right to the root of the issue,
hands on your neck and checking your wrist too,
it’s mandatory and obligatory, but morally grey.