I need my rest tonight.
But my mind is wide-awake.
Emotional strife in my comfortable life,
Leave me with decisions to make.

But doubt...
Is what forces my eyes open,
And keeps me pinned against my bed.

Fear
Is what makes my fists clench.
Making me repeat what I said.

It's like torture.

A pendulum axe.
Right above my bed.
Trying get inside of my head.

Why is life so difficult?
Is this really meant to be?

*The truth is everything is really up to me.

Who are you?

My heart longs to know.
For your face is a mystery,
Along with your existence.

Do you know?

That I'm here and waiting for you.
And that these empty hands,
Long and hope to hold yours.

My heart will be yours.

Before we even know.
For if destiny is real,
Then our fates will entwine.

Are you afraid?

That our paths will never cross?
Sleep well then, my dear.
For this is something we share.

Alone, we are not.

Even though we both are.
Our desires are shared,
Where ever you are.

Do you hear me?

My muse of mystery.
My one true love.
**If you even exist.

Fire and brimstone are nothing compared,
To the hell that I see, that I live, that I am.
You see, Hell is not a place where the ****** are condemned,
But a place in my head where Regret is the king.

It's a place where everything I wish I could've taken back,
Is played over and over and over again.
Torturing me and who I want to be,
With the image of who I was in the past.

Regret is the king, but Satan is me.
I am the accused, the shamed, the opposer.
The struggle is defining who I am today,
In the midst of the memories that I refuse to believe.

Demons are the memories that haunt me.
Beckoning me with false justification.
Chastising me with the whip of ignorance.
Killing me with the truth of my actions.

Hell is not the domain of evil.
Hell is not the source of all wrong.
Hell is a place inside of our heads.
Where we refuse to go and never want to be.

Countless nights with my hand on my chin,
In silence, in solace, in darkness at night.
The hunger for knowledge and quest for the truth,
Lead me to a desk with a small dim lamp,
Where I sit and I ponder my questions in life.

I wonder how many people like me,
Have sat in their rooms or personal sanctuaries.
Sitting alone on the verge of epiphany,
Struggling to find the perfect words to define,
Their thoughts or emotions or questions like mine.

Einstein's theory of relativity.
Tesla's ideas of electricity.
Wilde's philosophy on the emotion of love.
These men are defined by the great things they did,
Because they defined the visions in their head.

My pupils dilate as I stare at my walll.
Time slows down when I'm in deep thought.
Everything, all of it, rushes at me.
I cannot describe the things that I see,
When I turn on the switch of possibility.

I see through them, right through your walls.
So solid and tall, that you built brick by brick.
Laid one at a time, with a little piece of you,
In every single one of those bricks.

When did you lay the cornerstone?
The very first piece that started it all?

The very first time that your heart fell apart.
The very first time you lost someone close.
The very first truth that you tried to hide.
The first memory that you tried to forget.

The mortar is mixed with your darker side.
It is hardened by sadness, angst, and anger.
Pain is the glue that binds them together.
Keeping the wall between you and them.

To keep them from seeing the tears in your eyes.
To keep them from hearing the sobs from your chest.
You're feeling alone, and I know why.

**You've built the walls way too high.

As I look upon the human race;
Just normal everyday people,
There is only one word that stands out in my mind;
Disgusting.

******* disgusting.

Putrid wastes of human space.
******* air and eating food.
They never stop eating, they never stop drinking,
While some other people starve to death.

Selfish and stupid.
People scramble for "stuff".
With money they don't have for **** they don't need.
Then they whine about working their dead end jobs.

Animals. Pigs.
Breeding like rats.
Even the ones that shouldn't reproduce.
Just making more useless ******* people,
To contribute to a materialistic, elitist, bigoted global society.

"This is cool. That is cool.
That's ******* lame."
All these stupid ******* rules.
Pop culture and the so-called, "status quo."

And how violent can people get?
Picking fights over dumb ****.
Gang members and terrorists.
It's never safe anymore.

How many more wars must we see before peace?
How many more years before love overcomes all?

It'll never ******* happen.
Because humans are pathetic.

Just another ******* animal with a bigger brain than the rest.

So it begins.
The end, but not the end.
The end of a chapter. The end of a stanza.
A sheltered life; the life of my past.

Fear; t'was my struggle.
The fear of being held back.
But the struggle to free myself from restraint,
Became my very shackles.
I was my own prisoner,
In these walls that I've built, so high.

I hear in the air, the call of a Siren.
A call to my soul. A call to my fate.
The Siren of change.
She announces my time.
The time of rebirth.
My hour of epiphany.

I am awake.
I can breathe. I am free.
Free from myself. Free from my sins.
This is where the new chapter begins.