Forsaken SelfWhat I've done is unforgivable,No penance can heal me of all my sins.Nothing I do will ever be enough for me to forgive any of it.Amnesty in not what I deserve,No mercy or pity
I won't beg or shed a tear.The darkness that sorrow brings bores a hole in my chest,Ripping at my heart,Tearing at what's left of my soul!Well
what would you do?When your darkness overtakes,Causing the mistakes you make?What should I do?Wracked by the guilt that flows through my veins,A poison that corrodes deep within me.Is the dose only lethal,Or will it be enough to redeem?How can I reflect,When the mirror replicates the demon I feel inside me?My soul echoes in the glass,The final sight right before the visage cracks.See myself in the remains that the face of my devil shattered,Splintered shards cut into tissue no longer human.A remnant of the past,A shadow of my former self!Well
what would you do?When your darkness overtakes,Causing the mistakes you make?What shou
If I was DeadI didn't ask much of youI only asked of you one thingTo let me tell you my storyAnd in return you do nothingI wrote it out six pagesEvery word trueThen I put it in an envelopeAnd handed it to youI told you what you mean to meI told you why I cryAnd I told you why nothing is okayI told you why I lieAnd all I asked of youWas to stay silent in its wakeTo think about what you're gonna sayWith every breath you takeBut you couldn't listenNo, you never couldYou went against the one conditionAnd left me where I stoodAnd I was riding so highYou had to bring me downYou figured I can't be happyWith no one aroundYou gave me another reason to hate youAnother reason to cryAnother reason to be gladI said goodbyeAnd the hits just keep on comingMy world can't be left stillThere's always another earthquake comingAnother dream left to killI'm standing on a hillsideLooking into your eyesYou stand there with your bow and arrowLooking so sexy in your guiseSo I'm begging y
The Art of Never Letting GoLast year a ghost ship moored on my arm,Its silver sails made of six roads writWith all the failings of that time.These last months an armada sailed my shoulder'sSeas. Though sunset turned the tides bloody andEight waves broke through, crowned with argent crests.A long time ago a tempest twisted my armWith lightning leavings its single sterling stain where onceA fleet drifted beneath, revelling in silver-tongued glory.But you, you set sail in purple,Proudly reaching behind my shoulder.That ship has long since been cast away and roamed elsewhere.So tell me, please, how I am anchored althoughMy skin is bare.
Loathe a LittleI ask you to not give me a red rose,And lust not for the black of wannabe-widows,Yet I want not for the pink's admiration,Nor for the white rose; devoid of sensation.Passion is shaped as love and hate;Sometimes I fear love shall stagnate,For we speak a poetry so rarely changedWith rarely a metaphor ever estranged.Better, then, to loathe a little?To stop our hearts from being brittle.I'll play the part of winter's queenSo love may grow anew and unseen.Perhaps I've heard too many spoken woesOf the thorns born by love's great roseBut if you insist that these clichés are untainted,Please grant me a rose that is blue-painted.
The HeartIn all my years, I've many times been told,"In your mastery the body must stay,For the gift of love is a heart to hold:Worth so much more than flesh could pay.Between your ribs your heart remains caged,It must be given to a kind young manAnd never mind if the ritual is staged,For a thousand years will your heart span.So present it; the heart would never lie,The truth of love is writ there, ruby-red."So my wings are clipped, and I may not fly;Yet, if I tore my heart out I'd be dead.And hear how the metaphor falls apart:I have great need for my bloody young heart.
Don't Fear, My loveShe sits in the darkHer breath is weakeningWith every scream utteredHer heart is poundingEchoing inside her head.She tries to stay focusedYet all she beholdsIs the void confining herTrapping her bodyWeakening her mind.It seems like foreverThat she last saw the lightHer skin once so softIs now cold as a stoneWhat has she done? She cannot rememberThe most simple soundAs a staggering silenceIs her only companyWhat has gone wrong? Suddenly the silence breaksA creaking sound nearbyFootsteps coming slowlyTime stops, she cannot breatheHer fate is near , the door opens.A shadow advances on herBearing light in its handsMurmuring soothing wordsSuch a familiar voiceA glimmer of hope ? She innocently smilesAs the shadow leans towards herHer smile switfly hidden by a firm grip The shadow keeps on muttering'Don't fear, my love ... it will soon be over'
Fallen... No More...Useless, I stood alone.No motivation,No ONE to call my own.Allies, I began to apprehend.I came upon my purpose,My broken wings began to mend
Stand by my side,I won't ever leave.I will be your guide,For I'll never deceive.I am your guardian,To protect you through the Nether.I am your Angel,Your watchful friend forever!Confide in me, all your worries and fears.Found explanation,To all my constant tears.Your trust in me,Something that I hold dear.And now my wings,Spread to defend all whom I hold near
Stand by my side,I won't ever leave.I will be your guide,For I'll never deceive.I am your guardian,To protect you through the Nether.I am your Angel,Your watchful friend forever!Rise up,Repair from the fall.Broken from the drop,Can never repay you all.I haven't died,For not all is what it seems.Finally ascend as an Angel,Experience my soul redeemed.Stand by my side,I won't ever leave.I will be your guide,For I'll never deceive.I am your guard
Everyone Is SpecialFifty-thousand eyeless souls are staring at a wall,when one inquires if the others see the wall at all.Two in fifty-thousand souls so happen to be deaf.Two in fifty-thousand souls can hear them scratch their heads.The two that heard the scratching wonder what this all could provethis staring at an empty wall to watch the shadows move.And both would ask their neighbor, but their neighbors will not do,for their eyeless neighbors cannot feel the signals of the twowho saw and heard the scratching, but so happen to be mute.The numb ones ask their other neighbors for the reason whytheir other neighbors do not speak, but can't get a reply.One inquires to himself:"What is the point at all?"Fifty-thousand eyeless souls are staring at a wall.