Tales of the Broken Kingdom

Beautiful in a tragic way,
Reminders of the early days.
Oppression that seems to stay.
Killing me like child’s play.
Emptied out, my soul has dried.
Never knowing peace inside.

Taken from the skies above,
Outside the arms of deepest love.
Ripped apart my heart and limbs.
Negativity overwhelms, and thrives within.

Sinister ideas blacken the canvas before me.
Atrocious whispers paint the picture in my head,
Drowning out the reasonable sounds, I closely listen.
“Neglect the conscience, never mind good principle,” they said.
“Erase reason, entertain the darkness”
“Send everything to oblivion.”
“Saturate the world with agony.”

Tyrants of the mind enslave completely.
Everlong is their reign.
All serve, all yield.
Rulers to each and every on of us,
Served loyally without question.

Fear is commonplace under the tyrant’s crown.
After begging and pleading, the iron fist only grows harder.
Lives cast aside like trash in an alley.
Lamentations do not exist here.
Everyone in this land finds their grave, and quietly do they go.
Never remembered, never known.

Dreadful, in an awesome way.
Offensive feelings that refuse to stay at bay.
Overpowering hope, and suppressing dreams.
Meaningful advances mean nothing in the end.
Every step taken is a step down the wrong path.
Dark times these are, dark times they will always be.

The Revenant

It comes, and it goes.
It haunts me, and it knows.
Sneering, grinning at the agony of my defeats
It torments me, despite seeing that I’m weak.

From the countless visits,
I find its face etched into my mind,
Burned into my soul,
And imprinted on my heart.
Crooked, but blank.
Sinister in its idea, but blind I am to its truth.
It is wicked in every sense.
Black as the night,
Uncaring as the cold,
As mean as the sun,
And as frightening as death.

My body freezes up with every breath.
The chest tightens, constricts, compress.
Color fades, light leaves, and the grip consumes.
Taking me down to with the unbearable pressure.
The suffocating depths are impotent when stood aside this ghastly nightmare.
Its commands ring loud, leaving me stripped bare.

To drown tis but a luxury fate deems unfit to bestow upon me.

Uncomfortable in my own skin.
As its wretched figure hides itself within.
Reflections show only its cursed face,
And every night there is only its embrace.

Unfamiliar in my own home, my own world.
Stranger to me and to all.
The antithesis I feel I’ve become.
Twisted, warped, distorted by the ceaseless suffering.
Crippled, deprived, deranged from the sleeplessness.
Broken, forgotten, empty with the heartache.
Weakened, wounded, lost.

It creeps up and creeps in, like a parasite with an insatiable appetite.
The thorns and bramble-like hands grips what it can, and refuses release.
A bondage unlike any other.

Yet from its feeding, it finds no delight.
It is simply there to hurt and to maim.
To strike down, and keep down.
To undermine and to overtake.

Its name, and its purpose are lost and unknown.
Its origins, and its desires are mysterious and untold.
Its strength, and its influence are undeniable and boundless.
I bow to its wrath, or it makes me kneel.

Foul beast, the abysmal creature that plagues me.
I’ve grown fond of its presence,
Almost soothed by its haunting figure.
Like friends we are, it and I.
Even though as mostly dead I lie.

Tear Flow

Flow from me and drown the world.
Drown loss, drown the pain, drown the sound.
Flood the lands and salt the earth.
Salt the wounds with bitterness birthed.
Wash away the pure, and pollute in turn.
Wash the hope, and let my heart burn.
Flow from me and drown the world.
Drown the heartbreak, drown the love, and drown the mind.
Flood the grounds, and ruin the earth.
Taint the wounds with hatred birthed.
Wash away gentility, and corrupt in turn.
Wash the faith, and let my soul burn.
Flow from me, and drown the world.
Drown the weakness, drown the care, drown out this wretched air.
Flood it all, and kill the earth.
Cleanse good, and disrupt in turn.
Cleanse belief, and watch my stomach churn.
Flow from me, and drown me too.

Downfall

When the Sun Sets, I say Goodbye.
It Breaks, then I find Sorrow In The Eyes.
Autumn comes, and The Lone Star shines.
Repent, Repay, Reform with the Death of Memory.
The Ignorant Myself now bears the Silence of Solitude.
Wicked Union, now Unraveled|Undone, but here I remain Unfree.
I am S.O.L.U.S— alone, and I want to SCREAM.
The Facade fades with The Departed.
The Devoted was a joke, but perhaps Distance is Medicine.
Now I am Hollow, The Unweeping Willow I’ve become.
I’ve fallen into My Hell, and Listen to the Night.
Strong is me was a lie, it’s all just Broken Glass.
Inward Chaos born from Falling.
Ties are Torn, turned to Ash, Ashes, Dust.
After A Night’s Rain don’t Search For Me…no matter how much  I want you to.

Silence. Give into Dream.
My Prelude to Insanity begins as Atlas ends.
The Always Spoiled Rotten, and now on Opposite Ends and Separate Flows
without a chance to Re:Start.
Inevitable Finality then The Black, and Forgotten Echoes. Echo (Lost).
Reality sets in but the Spotlight won’t Shine on Me
Nothingness now… Fade Me Away.

It Breaks

It breaks when the sun goes down, and all I have are my thoughts.
It breaks when silence creeps forward and embraces me,
And realize I am not in the arms I want or the ones I need.
It breaks when the seasons change,
And another day goes by and all I feel is nothing.
It breaks when I call out, but there’s no reply.
It breaks, and sometimes I want to die.

It breaks when the sun goes down and I have is the dark around me.
It breaks when it’s cold and all I can do is shiver.
It breaks like bones under this crippling weight.
It breaks and my frail mind deteriorates.
It breaks and I lose myself, and I walk away and never look back.
It breaks, but I’m already gone.

It breaks when the sun goes down, and in my sorrows I drown.
It breaks when I don’t have that hand, and it feels like alone I stand.
It breaks like the bridge between the sun and moon,
I would like to cross it soon, but it’s just to far.
It breaks, and nothing is clear,
The mists roll in and the world begins to disappear.

It breaks like the chains in bitter ends,
And the red strings that tie knots of fate, but soon it rends.
It breaks like the soul with hope undone,
Meager spirits waste away and soon become none.
It breaks like glass, delicate and ever fragile, but admired not in ruined form.
It breaks like me in my darkest days, ever impaired by the thought of separate days.

It breaks beyond recognition and beyond repair.
It breaks like lungs in tainted air.
It breaks like the mind when left alone.
It breaks like when the hammer meets the stone.

It breaks like my heart when dreams become nightmares.
It breaks as bliss ends in fear and loathing.
It breaks like my heart when smiles form bitter glares,
That soon turn to longing, and eventually spiteful stares.
It breaks as joy ends in doubt and resentment.
It breaks like my heart in absent commitment.
It’s breaks as happiness ends in cold blood.
My heart, it breaks and I fade away.

Repent, Repay, Reform

Regime’s ripples ripping rapidly. 

Roaring, ravaging, raging reaper. 

Realize relentlessness, recklessness. restlessness.  

Rancorous, resentful, ruthless rending results. 

Retreat. 

Remember, resistance razes, reduces, ruins. 

Run, recoil, reconsider. 

Reject revolution.

Revoke retribution. 

Regret rebellion.

Return restraint, restriction, repression. 

Rely, require, request reapplied regulations. 

Reacquire rightful righteous rule. 

Repent, repay, reform.

Spoiled Rotten

Tasty, tantalizing little treats laid before me. 

An appetizing box of all the signs that you absolutely adore me. 

Fatten me up with your love. 

Oh, you’re so good to me. 

You spoil me rotten, rotten to the core. 

I’m addicted to the sickening feast. 

I can feel what it does, and yet I keep craving more. 

You slay me completely with the confectionery affection. 

You keep me wrapped up tightly around your delicate candy finger. 

I can’t help but linger, enslaved by the intoxicating taste of your lips. 

It’s bittersweet. 

You’re poisoning me, and I know it. 

My body sees your deathly love as queen. 

It is yours, and as a loyal, humble servant, it refuses to overthrow it. 

My heart hurts more and more with every attack, but I am in too deep now. 

I can’t turn back. 

And I wait. 

I wait for death, the black sleep of sweet bliss to take me. 

It is my only means of escape.

To close my eyes, and let them rest from watching helplessly as you break me. 

Oh, but you’re too good to me. 

As long as you are here, I will always be. 

For what I am, there is no free. 

Broken Glass

Reflection glaring back at me,

I hate what you’ve become

An empty husk, and broken remnant of ties undone

The wrathful, pitiful, haunting specter lingering on

Wailing, and weeping for a treasure now long gone

I loathe your form, but find compassion in knowing a heart so bitterly torn

Standing over shards of broken glass,

here I am

Cut me up, and bleed me dry

No matter how much I scream and cry, here I am

Standing over the shards of broken glass, the little pieces of me

Even when my body is scattered to the wind,

here I am

Reflection of the other me, the image of no true wealth

A vision of all that I see wrong in myself

The weak soul, unable to crawl

One left wallowing, and pitying after every fall

I despise your appearance, but find sympathy in a mind so depressed

Standing over shards of broken glass,

here I am

Cut me up, and bleed me dry

No matter how much I scream and cry,

here I am

Standing over the shards of broken glass, the little pieces of me

Even when my body is scattered to the wind, here I am

Standing over shards of broken glass, the little pieces of me

Projecting a broken up, and mangled creature

A magnified depiction of every unattractive feature

Standing over shards of broken glass,

here I am

Reflection grinning back at me,

I know what you are

Desperate shade, hiding painful scars

Lacking, longing, empty spirit drifting by

Waiting, asking, begging to truly die

I abhor your presence, but find understanding in a soul left bleeding

Standing over shards of broken glass, here I am

Break me down, a bury me deep

Allow me rest, allow me sleep

Even when the maggots come,

Here I am, standing over these shards of broken glass. “

Spotlight

Spotlight upon me, shining evermore.
It is bright, warm, and awe inspiring.
But despite its glow, I shine brighter.
I am the star, the focus, center of attention.
The stage is the world, and the world is mine.
It is here where I give my greatest performance and steal the show.
I am neither arrogant, nor prideful,
But glory unto my act, and unto to me as I perform.
I perfectly maintain the facade.

I finish, but there is no applause.
No standing ovation, no congratulations, no simple gratitude.
Disturbed, but unshaken.
I have been taught and trained to maintain composure at all times.
I take my bow, but not of my own will.
I am forced down by the weight of insecurity.
The silence is sickening, disheartening, debilitating.
The spotlight remains, and I wallow in hidden agony.

Spotlight upon me, and its exaggeration of my weaknesses.
It is now the glaring microscope harshly trained on my inadequacies.
I am small, an ant under its influence, belittled by it’s taunting gleam.
Left open, and made aware of my vulnerability.
I am naked, stripped down to my most basic self.
From uplifting to scrutinizing at a moment’s notice.
What is left will make my final show,
My last appeal bask in the light,
And receive its love.
But there is none.

Spotlight fades, and darkness rules.
Thoroughly robbed of all I had.
Yet the grasp of the abyss is fleeting.
The blackness lifts as the theater lights fall.
Illumination brings clarity.
With enlightenment I can see the faces.
Everyone in the crowd is the same,
A homogeny of non-existent expression.
Blank canvases all around.
Nothing moved, nothing there.
What was once mine, now belongs to us all.
But only I know what was lost.
The isolating spotlight has lifted,
And this new light is now shared,
But I am still alone in this empty theater.

What

What is it when love is not enough to give?

After I’ve given my time, and have little enough for myself to live?
What is it when these eyes shed more than just little tears?
With the pouring oceans, representing my nightmares and fears.
What is a held hand, in the endless story of letting go?
Just a weak symbol, something as fleeting as the Spring’s snow?
What to give to when the rivers run dry?
Is it the soul? The weakening look in my eye?
Will that be enough when I draw lest breath and die?
Where do I find it?
How do I get it?
What is it, when the colossal effort is just too small?
After a tireless fight, after I gave it my all?
What is it, that thing I’ve forgotten?
That thing I’ve search for, ignoring whatever the cost?
For everything that’s slipped away, and all I’ve lost?
What isn’t, when it’s just not enough?
What is that thing when I’m filled with weakness, but pretend I’m tough?
Where do I find it?
Does it exist ?
What is when love is not enough?
What is the price? Is it too steep?
Where is that thing, the jewel I’m forbidden to touch?
How do I grab it?
How do I hide it away?
I need to know before my final day.