Anger breeds what anger breeds and still I see the truth to you and I. I'm running down a window pane and hoping for another rain, but still I can see you slowly passing by.
Shimmering so seamless in it's dealings no matter the cost. I've consecrated the remains and held on for brighter days, but still right now it all seems lost.
Backwards off the subject and forwards to the cure wondering where we cut it just peering, lead legged, through the blur
It can't be this easy now can it? to leave me here for dead ..just like you planned it Our hopes were pisces carved of granite but it's too late for tasteful memories...
crimson in the coming winds we watch them rolling by, tasting what it was to live and drowning in our pride.
Can this truly be the end for time and faithful friend? Even now the hours are on display. I watched you passing by again, I called out, but you turned away.
It seems the button's broken Radiation and preservation nothing spoken and even more is left unsaid Only one side was clear he shouts his convictions out to the unknown beyond his words; nothing remained merely excerpts from tattered texts
'don't reach anymore' 'don't seek me out' 'act as though I never existed' 'I've nothing more to say to you'
Something made it all decay when least it was expected anger had replaced love open arms crossed in disdain and like that she was gone
I walked for a thousand miles never enough to make a mark I'd keep screaming through the blackness If my heart could light a spark.
but my voice is no longer one that whispers in your ear and all my ramblings are wasted without you around to hear Still I keep on hoping some part of you will melt That your heart may call you foolish once my absence is felt. Such thoughts are trivial; shadows to all but myself. So I'll stack them up like philosophy books; high upon the shelf.
Ritchie
Current mood: Introspective
Category: Introspective Life
Ritchie
So you saw what was behind those sunken eyes.. You knew that this would come someday. The past must rise to meet the present, and the present must turn it's gaze away. She doesn't love you, Ritchie. She doesn't know what she wants.. Your friend is no real friend. He saw his opportunity and he took it. Margo won't be coming back. The shades of her purity are raped and ruined Just like the blackness of her lungs. Losing everything and gaining nothing. Nothing but that bitter taste of love gone astray.
You've made your decision, Ritchie.. It's time to stick to it. That red stream building at your feet is but a reminder.. How did you let things get so broken? How did those eyes get so listless? Staring at you in that mirror now is your true face. Clear. Pure. Honest. You don't hesitate. The time for questioning is done. You see the explanation rolling down your arms. A few moments more and you will have your answers..
Look how you've messed things up, Ritchie.. Family sobbing; their faces wrought with worry. The love you thought you'd lost remains true. You will never know how much hurt you've caused. We will never know how much you endured before this.. All things come to an end.. ..but your time is not yet done.
love can heal all wounds love can open you up to new happiness love can save your soul love can also tear your soul from you i pray that my love is empowering to those that I offer it to.
it's gonna be ok It simply has to be there isn't any time for doubts no need to question what has fallen from the sky we accept the gods' gifts with a grateful sigh it's only a matter of time before we become like them gods' eventually become mortal it is their destiny so, in turn, it is our destiny to taste ambrosia and breath in the power that we are destined to have
The gods will it and no will can prevent our evolution into enlightenment take a deep breath and jump into fates cool waters they sustain us until we overcome
All is not lost we give only what we choose and I choose to give every ounce of my resolve I will battle with the demons and I will come out alive stronger braver and with a knowing that cannot be stripped away
This is all of our fates we just need to take the first step who wants to be first to shed this painted reality?
Beneath the Dawn
Current mood: Shadow's last descent
Category: Shadow's last descent Writing and Poetry
Another morning passes, and I am filled with polimorphic sanity. A thousand unrestrained brush strokes gently curling through the clouds. And here I am, but a spirit bathed in the decedence of first light. Where has that golden sunrise gone to? As a child I would gaze up in wonder at an endless, liquid horrizon. Shaping the morning in it's own sacred inclinations. And though I keep my eyes aimed skyward, the dawn comes only after my shadow's last descent. This journey shall be the keeper of fates, and I am the alter apon which destiny is forged.
The Words Decide For Me
Current mood: Fighting the Undertow
Category: Fighting the Undertow Writing and Poetry
Sometimes the words decide for me. I am but a vessel for this raging sea within.
Black is the parchment from years of differential waste. Sickened and tainting they push him through the space. And still he wonders where it all dropped out, the front door seemed to widen with an unholy light.
These children never prosper under heavens waning grip. So take with me a slumber and together we can slip. Where were we standing when the fires churned and boiled away our discontent?
Fleshy and quickened we gasped for each breath, in silence. And that silence granted us the strength to tear away those chains of ambiguity. With nothing left to blend into we are naked and waiting for that knowing light to fade. In that fading we re-live all of the trials that have scarred us.
Each of these revelations were constructed with tied hands. Blue, scalding and divided are the casting's we have molded. So when did it all become a fantasy? When did this dream take solace in the fortunate windings of a solemn spirit? With each socratic stride we uncover the reality that abandoned us. Still, we press onward.
A holy journey beyond the eastern skies. The sun snarls at our backs as we shelter ourselves in the bosom of deserted mountain peaks. Thoughts of yesterday trembling beneath us. Shaping what's left of the river's edge.
We are.. Creatures. Fighting oracles with only forced smiles to defend this evolving tapestry. We have become the sharpened silhouette of our good intentions. We have tasted the hours, and slyly scoffed at the steadily approaching sunrise. We have all but swallowed the treasonous perceptions that lead us so far astray. Still, when will enough be enough?
Sometimes the words decide for me. I am but a specter trailing behind them. These words are the deepest part of me. In it's reluctance to let go, my tongue knows only this. Words can form a bountiful web of honesty.
Though they come from deep within, sometimes the words decide for me.
contemplative
thankful
exhausted