The Morning’s Light

Visions of hope and happiness emerge from the black.
Uplift, soothe, and entreat one to ideas of fairer seas.
All minds are set at ease.

As if in the arms of the truest love–The ever-sweet embrace,
Purest joys are offered on platters silver.
An eternity of good spirits within the confines of the head.
Without apparent end the feast carries on,
‘Til fattened and full by daily bread.

But soon dusk begets dawn,
And in an instant entire worlds, universes even, are wiped away.
Feeble hands grasp at the what was,
Only to be spurned by the what is as dreams begin to fade.
The bleak reality seems so bright,
But there is only true comfort in the falsities of the night.

In sleep are bliss-filled stories told,
As does mother to child, fantastical stories of old.
Imaginations inspired, naïve passions kindled and spurred.
A perpetuated lie reborn with every word.

Dreams melt alongside one’s will turned cold.
The whimpering death of the daring and defeat of the bold.
Pathetic in ones attempt to fight, and the true ever remains in spite.

No matter the force one can muster,
Be it of the heart,
The soul,
Or sheerest might.
All dreams die in the the accursed light.

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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.

The Request

When broken down, build me up,
Cast it out, my not enough.
Begin anew, and clear the dust.
Is it fair, for me, to ask you thus?

When cut down, fix me up.
Thrust it out, my soul undone.
Open fresh, and give it sun.
Is it safe, in you, to place my trust?

When knocked down, pick me up.
Throw it out, my heart deprived.
Start again, and help it thrive.
Is it too much, of me, to beg you so?

When left unwell, be my cure.
Set them straight, my thoughts impure.
Incite rebirth, and see it show.
Is it reasonable, to think, I have your hand?

When simply lost, be my guide.
Direct forthright, my oafish stride.
Inspire repair, and hell it hold.
Is it wise, for me, to ask this too?

When left found half-done, fill my blanks.
Complete entire, my ravaged being.
For the bond, and sustain prolonged.
Is it a burden, for you, to grant me this?

When left alone, please take my side.
Display full force your presence near.
Provide your love, and not pull back.
A lot to ask, but for me, will you see it through?

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.

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.

Rain over California

Southern land of the sun.
Fires consumes, takes over all,
These forsaken fields where rain does not fall.
Hot, dry, empty skies.
The harsh sting makes the earth cry, but without the tears.

Light beams down, treating us all like ants under the looking glass.
Gleams to scorch our skin and burn us down.
It takes our homes, and chases us out.
The ground recedes, wells drying up.

Branches break and leaves fall, then fade way.
Trees dying off.
Water flees, escaping the persecution of the sun.
Leaving the millions,
All who are firmly rooted here; They cannot run.

Rain over California, a fleeting thing,
And a somewhat of a dream.
Rain over California, reduced to a ticket now,
And the weakened lands are playing lottery.
Rain over California, it is so far gone.
Rain over California, maybe just once more before too long.