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Zach Hanlon Jul 2019
You wandered through misery and silence
for half your lifetime,
feeling every change in the wind
and the pain of the world around.

You were lost and didn't want to be found.
There was no salvation within;
so you gave up on false idols
of joy and light.

Aching and broken, you closed your eyes.
The world disappeared,
your mind grew louder,
And you gave up.

Or so you thought.

You expected an end
and received a beginning.
I'll wait a lifetime for you to catch up
and meet the new you.

You'll be ok again.
Big shoutout to therapy and medication.
Zach Hanlon Jun 2018
Troublesome author,
we are suffering subjects;
we didn't pray for this.

Why create the day
when the sun is so gloomy?
Our own light is ******.

You demand our love.
Such a horrid creator;
love isn't ours to give.
Zach Hanlon Jun 2018
Red tides crash ashore,
pulled in by a new moon.
Madness flows in.
The mind is a sharp blade,
and is keen on its desires.
All senses slowly sink
straight to the ocean floor.
The current sweeps everything away;
tiring the mind and body.
Thoughts give in to incoherence,
letting those destructive obsessions in.
Finally, they accept that red tides
are their only solace.
Zach Hanlon May 2018
Two voices screaming in my head.
One full of indignant righteousness,
the other begging for its morbid desires.

The rythmic yelling beats against my chest;
every word constricts my breath,
choking any reason in my mind.

Neither voice seems to ring true,
leading me further into a pit of self doubt.
Which one is the liar?

The fear in my heart wells
at the thought of both being truthful.
I fall deeper and deeper into myself.

I try to silence them both, shutting myself down.
but in the end, no matter where I turn,
they're everywhere I try to run.
Zach Hanlon Feb 2018
the parasite
and the host
eat, eat
feast on decay
eat, eat, eat
i'll feed you, parasite
eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat
consume me
Zach Hanlon Jan 2018
Your crown will roll,
your castle will fall;

The towers, the turrets,
the windows, the walls;

The king is dead.
Long live the liar.
Zach Hanlon Nov 2017
On this sacred day,
they await a Savior:
a light for the shadows,
and warmth for the long nights.
Days and days they sit
in the very same holy spot,
praying for the change.
Winter slowly creeps in,
shaking the zealous to their core.
Faith, a fickle candle,
can't stand the gentle breeze.
The wick becomes chilled,
the flame extinguished,
and the weak begin to flee.
Those faithful to the Sun
scorn those who leave the holy site.
Even as the light dies
and the world grows cold,
here they sit patiently.
Unfortunately for them,
darkness still comes to those
loyal to the day.
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