Blind Attire

As we dress ourselves sadness,

Weeping is a ploy to keep away from hope.

Why live when we can die?

Why fight when we can cry?

Are dreams mean nothing, because we forgot to close our eyes.

Nothing but antidepressants keeping us standing.

Broken down are we,

Just another basket case.

What do we believe  about ourselves?



Ticking Hands, Taking Hands

Tick, tick, tick
The time passes by
Minutes are leaving
Never to return
This little clock
So haunting
Is it mocking
Cursing me
Everything runs away
Never to return
Wanting something
Something more
Oh, cruel hands
They do nothing
Nothing but take
In my silence
You shout
Shout at me
Reminding me
All the things lost
Never to come again
Tick, tick, tick…

Her Shade

She was haunted. Haunted by a ghost of the past that seemed more a ghoul.
It shattered her belief in safety, reliance on any other being.
The daft spirit gave her no rest, especially in the dead night.
Her dreams became nightmares and only she could hear the screams.
Poltergeist by a force unseen by all with one exception, her.
It fed off of the fears that poured out from within her.
Will she die alone and lonely with only this shade to morn you?

Chained by the Past

Why dream
Why close my eyes
To face nothing but nightmares
To be haunted
Terror absorbing me
Shear terror
Awakening in shock
Covered in a cold sweat
Shaking body
No comfort for me
Surrounded by darkness
Alone with my despair
I cannot remain in this place
Yet I can not seem to move
Frozen with fear
How do I escape this pain
How do I get out of the past
It seems it will never leave me
It will never release me

With a How

What is called when you want to live, but yearn to die?
What are the words to use when none can describe?
Why does the keep hurting even after the time has gone?
Why must I live those days on a constant repeat?
When these wounds heal, or close, or vanish from sight?
When will my memory recall the joyful times alone?
Where is the place to rest away from haunting dreams?
Where the darkness rest I seem to always be…
How do we fight a seemingly hopeless battle?
How am I to live when I really want to fade away?

We did Wish, Once

When did we stop wishing?
Why do we stop dreaming?
The world is so cruel,
The darkness overflowing.
Are we really so weak,
To let all our hopes be shattered?
Is our will to fight so brittle?
The desire to survive does not thrive.
What a world we live in,
What a world we create.
How sad that all that we could be
May never be.
The choices we make,
Through each experience,
All those consequence,
Our destiny is molded.
Will we enjoy victory?
Our remained crushed?

A fool you are, we are…

What a fool,

To believe that an evil would transform into something else,

That it would some day become good,

All because you love it.

How foolish indeed.

To even dream of such an impossible scene,

There was never a time it could be true.

Some things will never change.

Especially by you.

We are weak and sad creatures,

Who wish for something beautiful to appear in the darkness surrounding us,

To be free from the shadows encompassing,

To save a soul.

These things we can not do.

I know,

For I wasted away my days trying so hard to love the broken back to wholeness,

It cannot be done by ones such as us.

Only the truth,

The light,

The Maker of life,

Only He can do that which is impossible.

To fix all that we have broken,

To make beautiful what we have destroyed.

Only He can love us all perfectly.

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Not Resurrected, but Reborn

Why fix the broken? Why undo what was done?

The shattered me, it’s no longer me. Who I was is not who I am.

What has been done will never define who I am, for I will be more.

Take all the pieces and start over new, begin again, be renewed.

I will be rebuilt from the ashes I was, rising up into the future.

Striving to be something beautiful from the filth forced upon me.

Rise up and bloom oh blossom from the muck you were buried in.

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To Burn or Not to Burn

The only way to gain true wisdom is through the crucible, the fire that does not burn will define and mold you. Will you be pliable, easily created into something beautiful or will you be a mangled, deformed thing who has nothing, for it has all burned to ashes. For one can not be defined by ones experiences, that is not who you are. We can be so much more than we even allow ourselves to be. The fires of each trial are only tools, how we act and react is what will determine who we are. Burning to dust, with nothing to remain, or to dance in the victory of all you could become. That, is the question.

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Don’t Pretend, Don’t Lie

Did I not know it? The path to take? The journey to make?

How could I have lived in darkness so easily, I often wonder.

You may ask why do they stay? How could they let that happen?

Don’t, do not ever ask those questions. Because you do not really want to understand.

You have never felt that kind of fear.

You have never understood this kind pain.

You have never loved the darkness, hoping someday it would be the light.

You can not ask those questions of insincerity and say that you care.

We don’t need another liar in our broken lives.

We cannot even answer those questions completely.

Life doesn’t always go the way we had planned.

Sometimes it is more a living nightmare.

A broken dream, don’t make me laugh.

Do not measure my suffering.

Do not think you have ever known me.

No, I don’t think you would have made it through my dreary journey…..I almost didn’t.

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