A passing spirit
Might hear it
When I talk to myself
Inside my head
I don't fear it
I cheer for it
I hide nothing from it
I open my soul to it
It changes me
It clears up the misconceptions
I talk to it
Lay before it
What I can't express
How my soul is stressed
Can't show my face
My lungs are full of toxic waste
My heart is venomous
My head suppresses it
A filter silences me
Truth is repressed in me
Words form in my heart
But are too revolutionary
My friends are distasteful
Speaking to people
Is a leap of faith
Some are like sheep
Most are stubborn like goats
I don't want to be an influence
Don't want to be heard
Except by the passing spirit
The passing bird
In my head

Something hidden from the wise
And yet to fools, is no surprise
The depth and gravity of yearning eyes
That magnetically spellbind with attractive lies

Puts black holes to shame
Different day different name
Those who see through the game
Flee the soul trap all the same

Yet when it dies, is a relief
For it is a power thief
Else it might live long enough to see
And know the truth, which is worse I believe

Today I prayed to God and said
I want to give up, want to give in
The worldly path is glistening
People can't be reasoned with
I can't even tell if you're listening
Feeling oppressed, wish I was dead
I envy those who already died
I am one whom you cast aside
I know well this world is hell
With many pitfalls everywhere
You cannot tell, they hide them well
I couldn't tell before I fell
I wish you'd talk to me like the old days
But I feel you've forsaken me due to my ways
I come to you hurting and muddy
Why do you keep slamming me into the dirt?

At heart I'm an extrovert
Though I've always been shy
I think I am kind
They ask me why do I tolerate so much rudeness
Why do I waste my time
Thinking things will get better
It's because I am blind to their ways
Blind to their games

They have a sense of humour
But it's an unnerving kind
That keeps me silent
Don't know if I should laugh or cry
Jokes of mockery
Laughter at misery
They speak for pleasure
Rather than for the greater good

But I'm tired to fight
And so I retreat
Into my nest
Where I put up my feet
And try to forget
Try not to crack
Yet memories always seem to come back

I take comfort in knowing
I'm not the centre of the world
I don't need to make a huge difference
That might prove to be a hindrance
If you take kindness for weakness
There's something you're not seeing
It takes great strength
To be a worthwhile human being

I live in the shade
A dark corner of the housetop
My actions and habits
Have all lead me here
I live in fear
of losing what's meant to be lost
and gaining what's meant to be gained
I sit in the dark

Light means exposure
From its pinnacle I have fallen
Into an abyss of my own doing
A prison of my own making
I want to leave
There's nothing for me here
except more of the same
Like eating the same food for eternity

I've decided to leave
Though I have no destination
I will scour the nation
And search for you
Lead me away from my burden
Take me away from myself
Refresh my aching spirit
Remind me that misery isn't centre stage

I find the mind difficult to control. Looking forward, facing the right way is essential. Thunderous flashbacks mixed with imagination that fight one another spiral into a force so loud it could produce a mushroom cloud. But only to your ear. The friction of an inner fight is enough to set my mind alight, usually at night when I'm trying to sleep. It hurts deep. If negative energy creeps in, I go out. I get up or toss and turn; it really hurts the way they hurt me, the ax forgets but not the tree. I forgive, without a doubt because I want to forget. I have no regrets, I'm just in a dark place and the only thing that will suffice is a really nice slice of paradise with Christ, but the inner war with vice cannot be won unless you stop being nice and purge these demons from your life.

You thought you would get a laugh, watching me squirm;
stepping on me, crushing me like a grape for your cup.
I was to be your trophy, on the wall of those you *******;
you'd look back and say a-ha! Look what we made you do

It's true that a dark cloud has enveloped me;
depression weighs heavy on one who can see nothing but darkness
Anxiety keeps me from the connections I need
To conquer addiction I must face my demons

I toss and turn in bed, and wish I was dead;
The Lord allows this, yet gives me bread.
He put to flight me enemies, they exist only in my head;
he took my sword, and fought for me instead.

The pain that I feel, is centred on me;
the shame that I feel, is not what others see
I cannot describe the way that I feel
A faith in that which is not yet, but some day will be real