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T R Wingfield May 2017

You should believe when I tell you that I can only break your heart. Its not intentional, but it happens every time, in almost the exact same way. Don't believe you are immune to my charm  I'm masterful in my deception, in that I give away my play, in mannerhat seems endearing, like I'm kidding when I say,
  "Don't fall in love with me."
It's not hubris, or egotistical. It's pattern. I don't get a lot of girls, but the ones I do get thrown away
T R Wingfield May 2017
As the sun starts to go down, I stop and take a look around to try to find a place to lay my head. If I lay here on the ground and maybe shuffle these old bones around I might convince my back I've found a bed. Then, as the colors fade away, I try to think about the days when I knew peace and I could get some rest; but I never get no sleep 'cause these old ragged runnin' feet run me ragged all night in my dreams...

And in my dreams there always seems to be the same old demons chasing me; and right behind me breathing down my neck. When the get their claws in me they always brings me to my knees, rip me open, and leave me there for dead; and, as the colors fade to grey, I try to thing about the days when I knew peace, and love, and happiness. Then the faces that I see bring me back up to my knees; they get me up a going once again.

And I don't ever need no sleep 'cause these old ragged running feet can run me ragged all night if I need.
And I don't ever get no sleep 'cause these old ragged running feet, run me ragged all night in my dreams.
Lyrics to a song I wrote years ago which have never been put to paper. I was fortunate enough to recall them all the other night. So I'm writing them down this time.
T R Wingfield May 2017
Deep beneath deepest reaches
of the furthest recess of my mind
I found a craven creature, singing,
madly clawing blind into the darkness
desperate to find a shaft of light
by which to see its tattered tethered binds 
unbound.

Screeching at its unknown captor.
Screaming to the sky.
Shrieking like a banshee being slaughtered but alive.

Bellowing, bruised, and blackened beast,
best buried deep below-
you'll never see the light of day,
Nor freedom shall you know.

Claw madly at your cavern walls;
Howl mournful;
Be untamed.
But do not expect a civil birth,
born free of shackled chains,
without first being bested
by him to whom you belong;
whose nights you terrify;
who wrote your sorrowful song
T R Wingfield May 2017
Can you tame the unbridled misguided unrest, furiously seething, caged deep in your breast; devouring anything to come within reach. This ravenous, desperate, impotent beast seeks only release from the ******* of chains, to wander his cavernous, haunted domain.

Must you insist upon killing, in vain,
this animus spirit already restrained

The enlightenment that you so desperately crave lies buried beneath the beasts freshly dug grave. Exhume the remains, let it's death be unmade.
Resuscitate that which you fear you'll obey. The truth is the beast and yourself are the same.

See the beauty tremendous of entropy unleashed upon a life strictly structured to imitate peace. Embrace the chaos of your own destiny. Turn to the tempest, baring your teeth, and let loose the unbridled beast of the breach- unfettered, untamed, fearless and free.
First draught in notes
Can you tame the unbridled misguided unrest,
furious and seething, caged deep in your breast;
devouring anything to come within reach,
this ravenous, desperate, impotent beast

seeks only release from the ******* of chains,
to wander his cavernous, haunted domain.
Must you insist upon killing, in vain,
this spirit awakened by torturous pain?

Seek out the enlightenment you desperately crave
from quiet seclusion, not a freshly dug grave.
Find the beauty tremendous; watch entropy feed
on the stifling comfort you never did need.

Find the precipice calm, and a let silence prevail
lift your joy to the heavens and follow its trail
over mountains which seem to this mortal refrain
insurmountably treacherous, grueling terrain
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