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Tomas Denson Sep 2014
Blood sings with agony

steals life with a terrible voice

while the hymns of melancholia

vibrate through the minds of those

mired in misery



Horrendous pain

infects the soul of man

bends away from the reality

that pain never heals

just bides in time



Grief overawes

the spirit of life

but what can we know

of love

without pain.



We burn in blood.
Tomas Denson Sep 2014
Life

Waking, living, moving

Dancing, running, laughing

Loving, anticipating, joy, surprise

Children, caring, growing, caring, pride

Contentment, leaving, withdrawing

Memories, ageing, fading,

Slowing, dying, sleeping

Death

No breath
Tomas Denson Sep 2014
Future

Intangible

Harassing thoughts

Unravelling the present

Denying the past

Unknown

Future

Present

Incomprehensible

Seen but not known

Single minds see different

Patterns of the past

Misunderstood

Present

Past

Comforting

Lessons taught

Events, views argued

Memories decay

Fluid

Past

Time

Malleable

Slow and fast

Dependant on Thought

Rooted in life

Continuous

Time

We depend on time,

Time depends on us.

Tragic.
Tomas Denson Aug 2014
<Warning: This is brutal, I apologise if i upset.>

There is a scream beginning to resound in the caverns of my mind
Echoing around, bouncing forth and scratching at the walls
There is no sound to this unearthly yell, no form or function precise
It gives it's life to all i have seen, existence in calamitous expression
It cannot be ignored or pushed back into the depths
To writhe and tremble with the other demons thirsting for a chance
It exists as much as i can be, as real as anything here
Within i see many things, for the scream, the scream is me.
My mind is breathless as i am crushed by the lives i am responsible for
The empty accusing eyes stare sightlessly as they pin me to the floor
My scream is soundless here, however theirs is not
The empty lungs sound continuously, a cacophony of regret
This is not my scream, not my sound but theirs, for my grief
For they made their choice, as did i, it was me that walked away
It is for those that could not choose, had no choice, no freedom to exist
The children that paid the toll for the choices adults made
I've seen their tiny bodies bleeding out into the dust
Eyes in desperate incomprehension look at me hope i will make things right
And i cannot do anything but sigh in self disgust.
I didn't take those little lives i was supposed to protect
But it was i that had to watch them die, filled with remorse and regret
To yell within my echoing mind, why not me my life for theirs
And there is no power watching to make a deal with my despair.
That is where the scream began, all those years ago and far away
For every experience similar it has grown and developed teeth
And now it warps around my mind, suffocating thought
Because children are dying is an acceptable phrase and i rage because it's so
Rage again for i am powerless to change such a fate, mine and theirs
So i roar back in fury at the scream resounding through mind
For it's my face screaming back at me in eternal, cacophonous agony.
Tomas Denson Jul 2014
The dead never stay dead

and the living

the living

don't know how to live
Tomas Denson Jul 2014
I wander through the world
a smile on my lips
around me the aura
of the irrepressibly young
my steps are light
although the shadows pool under branches
my path is washed wonderfully
with the warmth of the sun

An older man approaches
he spies me and with shaking voice decries
"Where would you go, young man
with a step that be so sprightly
thy countenance that shines so
Do you not see the shadows that gather?
life is serious, young sir
and to to be squandered so carelessly"
He grumbles and mutters
the well worn tracks in his mind
carrying old thoughts
"Ah, youth is wasted on the young"

I reply to him, as i must
this upright providence of a youth well spent
"Oh come now Grandfather
why should one look at the shadows
when we can look at the light?
did you not step so lightly once
smile at the world with boldness
have you not seen both
the darkness and the light in life?
Why then, do you choose
to see the shadows of the world?
It may be true what you say
youth may well indeed be wasted on the young
though you seemingly must agree
experience is wasted on the old"

The old man cannot deny my words
this paragon of age
he fades back into the shadows of my mind
and i
i continue on my merry way to self destruction.
Tomas Denson Jul 2014
My mind broke on Saturday night
shattered shards of control splintering through
what remains of a battered, weary psyche
slicing, cutting
thoughts spilling everywhere
slicing, cutting
thoughts spilling everywhere
SLICING, CUTTING
emotions bleed out
the sightless eyes of many
staring at me
as i fight the demons
that have escaped
staring at me
as i fight myself
staring at me
as i lose.
I don't want to fight anymore
i don't want to
i don't
i can't
staring at me as i fall
the demonic reflections vanish
everything fades
until i, too
am gone.
broken mind gone loss agony fighting despair despondency ending
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