One is a carer,
a mender of hearts.
A rock to cling to;
Wise and generous.
One is a loner,
forever outside.
Fey and aloof,
He stands apart.
This One is a joker,
sarcastic and wry,
witty and glib.
He gives away smiles.
Another is darkness;
an empty glass.
He broods over shadows,
cloaked in shame.
There is one that was love,
so much to give,
but going to waste.
Crippled, broken,
He stands alone.
Parts of a whole,
drawn together
to fill a hole
that used to be me.
Life is an affliction
from which we never recover.
Enter the world screaming
And never stop.
Life seems fit to torment;
a torrent of dark abuses
gilded with a veneer
of calm civility
Smiling assassins;
sheep forced into wolves clothing.
We lash out at each other
to ease our own suffering.
Our oppressive pirouette
is deaths only distraction.
In the end, it equals us all.
from plus to minus:
an inevitable subtraction.
Cold winds blow over a desolate landscape
howling through the hollow places.
Solitary footprints disturb the dust.
Frigid, forsaken and blasted world,
where silence is so loud
screaming its pain into the biting gust.
Jagged, jutting bones of failed relationships
the expectant pause of words unsaid
a symphony of regret; a chorus of misplaced trust.
Cityscapes of misspent chances mingle
with the spider web of broken roads.
A bitter and empty honeycomb.
Windows bulge with age and neglect
tattered curtains billow and grasp
for a comfort they have never known
No warmth; no healing touch.
No arms to hide in; to chase away the dark.
A raw and vacuous home.
Explosions of insight
Light up the sky
As I lie here in the rain
And wait to die
A poignant moment
Frozen in time in my mind
The start of all this;
The end of all that.
A flash of lightning
Makes my pupils blow
And my tortured, beaten body
Lies broken on the floor.
I fought as best I could,
I played my part;
But I was overcome
And the thunder broke my heart
Words escape me,
I am mute, struck dumb
by the darkness in my mind.
Overcome
by the hatred I reserve
purely for myself.
Incapacitated
by the loathing
pressing on my last nerve.
Freedom
is the light in a tunnel.
I see only black; an empty oeuvre.
Nothing
is good enough,
no words to share my pain.
Words escape me.
Alone, again.
I have tried to be happy,
to put on the smile,
wear my mask like a good little boy.
I have tried to be my best
to not let people down.
My happiness is gone now,
torn away by a treacherous mind.
I cling to the tatters,
leeching warmth from the scraps.
The cold seeps in still.
I write from a dark place.
I see the beauty in darkness
Try to shape it into words
So that you may see as I do.
The bleakness in my mind
Curls tendrils about my soul
Binding it into submission.
An unwilling slave.
No safe words here.
When darkness has drained
The colour from life
Turned the beauty of the world
Into cold monochrome
I turn my eye to the abyss
I feel it staring back
Challenging me
To find the beauty in darkness.
Angst, Love And Other Monsters Of The Mind 