Text 25 Mar

.Aware

Waking, screaming, alive and well,

Again aware of living hell.

—-

.Hope

In a distance I see the end,

The finish line of my life;

The last steps I can’t wait,

The finale to this strife.

I cry for the lost ones behind,

I cry for what I take;

I cried so hard that rivers remain,

Flowing into a lake.

I worry about the transition,

Fearful of its pain;

Yet afraid of the unknown life,

I acquire to gain.

Death shall not be the end,

Not for now;

Just a change of clothes,

My spirit will endow.

—-

.Unnamed

Friends are given time and more,

To cry their hearts until I soar,

I leave them this my only lore,

As I leave my final door.

—-

.Unnamed

Five attempts I have made,

Yet all are undone;

But When my soul will fade,

my ninth leads the sun.

—-

.Trip

Plans are set and tools are bought,

Preparing for that final walk;

The soul at peace and nothing fought,

Ending that withered family stalk.

The fuel is a smell less ether,

light as air;

It tears at the physical tether,

Yet so fair.

Splitting through body and mind,

bringing restful calm;

Air so completely declined,

no breath for a psalm.

Eyeing that blooming summer time,

Life at its fullest;

To nature it is a sinful crime,

Its sorrow so earnest.

—-

.Sleep

As my body goes to sleep,

and soundly hear my mother weep,

My soul is now his to keep,

A journey ending in faithful leap.

—-

.West

Set aside my clothes to rest,

Preparing for my final test,

As my soul departs my chest,

travelling to the distant west.

—-

.Unnamed

Open arms he waits,

At the end of a long road,

His embrace wanting.

—-

.Unnamed

The noise next door, a knife to my soul.

My temper sore, peace and rest my goal.

Life given chance, Yet nothing appears.

Taking a stance. Closing the world to my ears.

—-

.Audience.

A close audience watches with silence.

Not wanting to act;

But without their soulful presence,

The id can’t stay intact.

.Farewell.

It is with a heavy heart these pages I adjust,

Final words of a tired soul;

Cracked and broken the mind is but dust,

Nothing that can make me whole.

A life meant well and fine in a past forgotten,

Innocence played among broken harps;

The legacy in the end all but downtrodden,

As time cuts across its hillside scarps.

Like fish in a stream we swim towards an ocean,

An ocean of hope, wants, and desires;

Yet the path takes its toll and causes erosion,

And flesh gives way to burning fires.

So the words I seek to say to a host of hosts,

Is a farewell of single sound;

To leave a lingering memory of all past ghosts,

When we are no longer around.

In a lie long lived by a broken husk,

Few things were well and true;

As we see a tinge of approaching dusk,

Your loss I shall always rue.

All things good must come to an end,

A finale of different sorts;

With nothing left but my love to send,

I leave you my last purports.

—-

.Dreams.

In dreams I cry, choking, sobbing,

Gasping breaths a window;

Hurting doubly, both real and not,

In my bed’s meadow.

Reality and fade, merging worlds,

Eliminating any escape;

No soft velvet, only harshness,

My feelings undrape.

—-

.Goodbye.

A friend indeed I disappear,

Allaying future concern;

Then to the unheard jeer,

My life I adjourn.

—-

.Friends.

Distant friends of bystander effect,

Cold and afraid,

All request for aid they deflect,

Left one betrayed.

—-

.Death.

Deadened nerves of rotting flesh,

Each wringing a soul;

Able to wring that trepid mesh,

Tearing one self a new hole.

Hollowed we then become.

—-

.Epilogue.

My will is lost to time,

A measure of our age;

And in it my only crime,

Bare ink on an empty page.

—-

.Flesh.

The human flesh is a castle wrought,

by age and wisdom;

Looking back at a life long fought,

In a sinful kingdom.

—-

.Companions

The noise of fellow men,

ringing in our ears;

Nothing but a human fen,

Keeping check our fears.

—-

.Hate.

The mirror show our hate,

A vile creature of nature;

We feel it is too late,

As we approach our maker.

—-

.Hope.

We cry for hope,

A silent noise in our bosom;

Yet are unable to cope,

When it fails to blossom.

—-

.End.

we live to die,

alone and crying;

our body hurt,

and our soul dying.

For no heaven awaits,

only peace in lying.

—-

.Life.

Broken boys with broken toys,

lying in a field of ash.

An empty shell in a desert hell,

All for the sake of cash.

—-

.Dreams.

The world a construct,

of man and mind;

Yet we children ignore,

their will unmined.

School but a place,

of a dread and decay;

All the little soldiers,

forbidden to play.

—-

.Unnamed .1.

Starting off with a sombre tone

Under a stormy sky

ears to come

Cheerful remembrance

Is the only mark

Deemed by man

Everlasting

—-

.Solitude.

Singled out by a great margin,

Obtuse in its approach;

Living in a land of virgin,

Indifferent to any roach.

Tired and weary the horizon nears,

Under a heavy cloud of dark and grey;

Domineering with its abundant fears,

Extinguishing its final prey.


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