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.

Unraveled|Undone

Bond of blood

Bond of brotherhood

Bonds are broken

Bonds are lost.

Binding links

Like shrinking chains

A short leash

A quick change.

Tying knots

Unraveled and undone

Shattered dreams

Leaving one.

To despair

Inevitable feeling

Fading memory

Imminent fall.

Final song

A sirens call

Departing hour

Biting past

Broken bonds

Where chains don’t last.

Inevitable Finality

Embrace the sun, for nothing is everlasting.
In time, all light fades.
No soul, no man, no thing is beyond its passing.
Look to the stars, and know that their light is dead.
Distant, cold and lifeless husks whose legacy is far from the truth. The lie, the hands that are red, stained with the illusions.
Encumbered by the dishonest, and false portrayals.
Into the dusk, all things tread.
The candle, like passion burns brightly in the night air, but burns away at a moment’s notice as if never even there.
Coming into fruition are all the things that were never meant to be.
The simple anomalies, the blatant denials and rejections, an imposed reality.
Culminating ruination speaks as loudly as it speaks clear.
Utterances of the things none wish to fall upon their ears, but the course is set.
Stay the course, and do not forget.
The feelings of the leaving moments, the fleeting nature of all things, and the inevitable finality.

The Lone Star

Distant, the faintest sound.
Alone, and away from the crowd.
Tears stain these sunken cheeks.
Sanity slips, madness peaks.
Starved, and deprived.
A husk left where life thrived.
The star of my galaxy, burned out and dead.
The black hole, the pit of the void left in it’s place consumes all.
Ripping, and tearing even light from the cosmos.
Darkness.
My end all, be all.
My King, my, Lord, and my God.
The warm embrace at night.
The faint comforting words that set me to sleep.
The failed remedy to scars etched deep.
The darkness looms, and is all that stays.
The loyal one in a world of many strays.
Hello darkness, my old friend.
The one I turn to when good things end.
Or rather the one I am forced to greet.
No matter where I run, it’s you I meet.
No arms to hold me tight, to shun the dark, and keep the light.
Distant, the faintest sound.
Alone, and away from the crowd.
The only other star in the galaxy, burned out and dead.
Leaving my weak light behind instead.

Opposite Ends and Separate Flows

The shots come from around every corner.
Whizzing by, I try to duck and hide.
Death is in the air and I’m terrified.
Every step I make seems to be wrong.
Before I’m hit, it won’t be long.
The push away from what good is left.
Letting the broken stay broken in the end.
The shabby bridge I just can’t seem to mend.
No matter how much I suppress myself and try to bend.
It feels like it’s over, but I don’t want it to be.
I’m scraping the bottom of the empty barrel, trying to hang onto eternity.
It doesn’t seem to be working.
My palms are sweaty and my voice is coarse.
My eyes are blind, and my head is spinning.
I keep on fighting, but there doesn’t seem to be a chance of winning.
It’s hard to let go, and then let go.
It’s hard to be good, and not know.
On opposite ends, and separate flows…