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.

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.

Baby Steps

Shaking, fumbling, trudging along.
Slowly and unsurely stepping forward.
One small step after the other.
Not enough to be called walking just yet,
And hardly an improvement from crawling.
Nothing special here, just baby steps.

Wobbling, rocking, stomping along.
Carefully and insecurely stepping forward.
One small step after the other.
I don’t just want to walk, I want to run.
Nothing impressive here, just baby steps.

Trembling, stumbling, pacing along.
Unconfidently and questioningly stepping forward.
I moved better when I crawled,
Now here I am wanting to forsake it all.
Nothing spectacular here, just baby steps.

Staggering, lumbering, shuffling along.
Hesitantly and reluctantly moving forward.
A half-step following the next.
Falling back to my hands and knees,
Failure is all the heart sees.
I’m sick and tired of these baby steps.

Leaps and bounds, winds ripping by.
Life blurs into oblivion in the corner of my eye.
A breakneck pace is too slow.
Rushing forward at full charge.
Remnant sensations of a memory now.
The grasp of missing, dull burn of phantom pain.
Intense longing, and unquenched yearning refuse to wane.
To break away from these baby steps;
Not to walk again, but to run.
There’s nothing great here, just baby steps.

Nothing fun here, just baby steps.
No joy, no pleasure, just baby steps.
A shadow of what walking could be,
At a pitiful pace slower than a crawl.
Sometimes I trip, sometimes I fall.
They aren’t pretty, these baby steps are,
But I’m on my way.

Autumn

Autumn is just a step away. 

The harsh summer sun descends, taking amber leaves besides. 

Cold comes closer, quickly taking hold of all and shaking what had become the norm. 

Unceremoniously, it claims the realm. 

Just a step before the fall. 

Lingering light begins to hide, taking modest lives besides. 

Chills creep closer, quickly clinging to everything and upturning what had become stability. 

Ungraciously, it dominates the lands. 

Sobering autumnal echoes are just around the corner. 

Gray will adorn the skies, and the lands will soon don garbs of while. 

Bleakness bitterly bites its way forward, viciously stealing entirety and confusing what had become serenity. 

Unexpectedly, it subdues the world. 

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.