I must tell you, dear friend,
When disappointment comes knocking at your door,
There’s little else you can do
But accept it like a precious gift,
And keep it with you,
Hidden for fear of losing it.
Yet always secretly hope you forget the hiding place,
Like a lost key to a door
Behind which you find your darkest fears.
When the play of shadows magnify
Your buried disillusionment,
Softly whisper to yourself,
That they are but a shadow,
Of a life you once had.
A life you chose to leave behind.
For our disenchantments are a figment,
A mere projection of our present,
Taken from the past, striving to survive to the future.
~*~*~
Infinite Joy is sad,
But Infinite Sorrow beautiful.
A bloodless strife hung heavy in the air,
The strain of which left me weakened.
The flash of anger, the screaming,
Were reduced to echoes in my head,
As I silently watched the blood drip,
Down my hands, like blade on ice.
The world gave a shudder,
As the will of my being broke apart.
It was the wounds that tore me apart,
Growing like a cancerous tumor.
The scars of loving you, never quite erased,
Off the face of my stitched up heart.
Oh the anger, it was always the anger,
Or it was the psychosis of my mind?
The lands cracked under pressure,
As the strain of living, deep inside, surfaced.
Weary grows the idle mind, weary with rust,
The cracks deepen, till it crumbles into dust.
When was the first weapon planted,
Deep beneath the layers of this love?
It was a silent killer, slowly spreading like a virus,
Until it consumed all there was to take.
The oceans fight a raging storm,
The ship is sinking, down, down it goes.
There remains no structure to lean on,
No spark of life to keep me hanging.
Falling, I am falling, deep into the ocean,
As the waves crash me upon the rocky shore.
Your voice whispers inside my mind,
“It was only the calm before the gathering tempest.”
The bullets shoot across the battlefield,
I was hit long before it rained.
Life is a battlefield, which never sleeps,
For even in dreams, the bombs fly artfully.
The haunting sound of your silence overwhelms,
As I writhe in pain, waiting as the tears stream down my face.
If only you understood the working of my mind,
Or maybe I was the one who never saw the torment of yours.
The volcano erupts in a flare of burning vice,
Smothering completely all in its path.
Your scrutiny of my being, of my body, mind, and soul,
Was only a dissection of that which you do not know.
For you never chose to see me as more than a shadow of myself,
But termed what you did see as the body of a shadow.
If you see the fire as a form of destruction,
You will only have the ability to destroy.
And destroy you did, with your single act of kindness,
That fine thread which tied my heart to yours.
Shimmering, shimmering in the wind,
Like tassels hanging from the boughs of trees.
The drunken air, heavy with a mist of innocence,
Brushing away softly with a gentle breeze,
The sadness lingering in the heart of shadows.
Long ago did the darkness lift,
Taking with it the essence of living.
Beckoning, beckoning the memories from long ago,
The scarlet drops of pain glistening in the sun,
Lovingly merging the present and the past,
In an embrace fabricated for perpetual silence,
As the world quivered with a single silent sigh.
Long ago did the darkness lift,
All the Just chose to follow.
Sinking, sinking nonchalantly into the bowels of the earth,
The pungent fragrance permeating into the atmosphere
Songs of burden lie at the beak of song birds,
Lethargically lulling all life to sleep,
With the cacophony of dullness heavy in the air.
Long ago did the darkness lift,
The earthen beauty fell into an unbreakable sleep.
Forgetting, forgetting the future yet to come,
Was it an abandoned wish, or a memory lost?
The sands of space and time in disarray,
And chaos did let loose a white offering of peace,
Wrecking havoc in the form of tranquility.
Long ago did the darkness lift,
With it went all songs of Harmony.
Shivering, shivering in the rivers of belligerent strife,
The shadows mourn naked in the light,
Stripped of all but the shame they hold.
Without darkness, how can one know light?
Such is the tale the shadows believe.
Long ago did the darkness lift,
But the shadows stayed behind.
Longing, longing for necessity,
Screaming quietly for the triumph of truth,
But what is truth without lies to confirm them?
Where does one hide from a fiery sun?
What is good without a breath of evil?
Long ago did the darkness lift,
But with it so did the light…
It was a matter of right and wrong,
A matter of truth and lies,
A matter of justice and injustice.
Yet still did evil triumph over good,
And the world rejoiced.
“Morality is to be shot,”
They said,
“Like the murder of a mocking-bird,”
And the world rejoiced.
We are but sacrifices on the altar of greed.
~*~*~
Darkness creeps into the veins of mortals,
Silently humming a song of mourning,
As it carves into the heart a mark of evil.
All that is left is pain,
Shooting through blackened veins,
Like trying to breathe underwater.
Life hangs by a fine thread of darkness,
As a Hobson’s Choice is given to all mortals,
Do evil or accept water in place of air.
Inside the Mind of a Lunatic 