Jaded/Destined

The bearer of this burden must endure the toll.....why wait for a beacon to guide you when it only lights the step in front of you....Do you like the way destiny plays her tricks....she gives you the start of the race, and she'll even show you the finish, but the road to the end is dark and obscurred....what fun would she have if everything was given to you...if life told you where to run, where to walk, what potholes to jump over...what trees to never sit under for shade...what strangers to never ask for directions from...what to do...what not to do....anything...Oh, no....she doesn't give easy....she doesn't believe in simplicity...and if the race is simple...be warned...it is not her doing. No, she gives us only the step in front of us....she forces us to rely on instinct to guide our way to the line....but look over in the horizon...with every step the finish line comes closer....then moves further away... the line is at the left...the line is at the right...there's a pradise awaiting you at the end.....my God, before your eyes it has transformed to hell....your destiny...your path..your steps...your future...with every step...she makes her message clearer...with each wrong turn...she makes her message clearer...with each new direction...she makes her message clearer...that nothing is clear.....Can you bear this burden? Can you endure this toll? Look at your beginning....Look at your finish...Look at the dark center between where you are and where you will be...use her light...and step...step...step....step....but never stop...stop...stop...stop....

Fester

It boils over inside of me......anger for a past that cannot be undone....anger for words went unspoken for so long.....and now can never be said.....hatred for the unaware that lingers in the depths of my inner child....he's bitter about everything that has happened...too helpless to stop it but too hurt to let it go....his place is with terror....his heart won't mend without apologies...but they come cheaply....too poor to be of pureness.....just words as empty as the hole left in the wreckage of his torment...this child rots away inside of me...spoiling me for goodness and fortune.....he kills everything I dream of....he ruins me for others....."They'll only hurt you" he screams from the depths of his hell.....I grow tired of his negative energy feeding on my hope of a charmed life.....I wish his wretched soul out of me....Afraid to let anyone close as he will only escape from within his walls and destroy them...."They'll only hurt you" he screams.....happiness upsets him...there is no happiness that comes from him....his past is his present and he resides there with ill of mind.....he reminds me of his torture at the hands of those who lied of their love for him....he can't forget that betrayal and he will not allow me to.....I wish you out of me...inner child...why must I feel the pain of your scars...why must I be secluded inside of your nightmare...release me and yourself from the grasp of a world written in stone...unchangeable and irreversible....Leave so that I may find comfort and you may find peace...it wasn't your fault, child....you could not change what you did not know.....you cannot feel hurt for the mistakes of fools....release yourself, child....the decay of your life is horrid and stinks of broken promises and sadness.....release me, child....release me....it wasn't your fault.....know this, child....it wasn't your fault.

Blood Paradox

Violently grasping for a second breath.....weezing...panting...panicking....gasping...crying...the tears of fear flow as the dark revelation of finality crosses the mind....is this where the curtain draws? There was so much left to not do....so many dreams to never see come true...so many goals to continuously put off for yet another dark moon.....The reality of the cold slumber becomes more and more apparent as time elapses....no relief in sight...mouth screams for help....no sound.....arms flail back and forth in hopes of rescue....there's no one there.....what is this obstructing the path to relief....what has captured the soul in it's death grip and pulls it further down into the bleek abyss as all appears calm to the vapid shallow surfaceness of the dwelling creatures abroad? Do they hear the cries....do they see the attempts to call for help....are they even there...have the illusions of the dying come back in the most sinister of ways to portray the final act of life as one of selfishness and isolation.....or does reality show the ugly truth of a society that would just as soon pretend the demon is not dancing in the center of the street while men, women and children alike pass it by.....feeling it's aura of unholiness and grotesque delight in the spotlight....but never acknowledge its existence.....never lock eyes with it....only ignore it and hope it goes away....but it never does....the demon takes on many forms.....but the man continues to deny it's presence....and is so complacent with this pretense.....he passes the angels too....he passes everything....even the dying man crying for help as he draws his las breath and drowns in his own watery grave sadness....look up....he's drowning...he's crying.......he's silent.