Another Dead Angel
10.06.05 (4:26 pm) [edit]It seems like forever, trapped inside this horrid misplaced eternity. Steadily shrinking into that dark hole of mediocrocy, I already know I'm nothing special, nothing to be remembered.
"Here Lies Another Dead Angel"
Something generalized to save from the embarrasment of leaving an unmarked rock in the midst of memorable markers.
Listening to the footsteps trudge across the dampened grass above as they scurry to continue on with the same inconcievably predestined meeting with eternity that I have experienced.
What was I, that I deserved such an insignificant existence? Why was I, if it mattered to no one but myself? Struggling to live up to that organized superficial phasode, that someone with such an average unmistakeably futile attempt at beauty, could never live up to.
It's almost like being a weed in a rose garden, eventually the gardner will find you and pluck you out so that you don't take away from the beauty of the landscape, when all you wanted was to perhaps mask the fact that you're just a weed by merely coexisting with even the scent of beauty.
And in all the world of seemingly understanding sympathizers, with their tales of lonesome wanderings, who seem to share the same feelings of missplacement and abandon... I am still alone.
And so are they.
Which also brings to mind the questions that turns in my brain like a spinning wheel, turning over and over, yet spinning out nothing but the same thread in a constant search for the end,,, who am I? And why am I here if I mean nothing to anyone but myself?
There's supposed to be more,,,
... isn't there?
Forget Each Word
10.02.05 (7:20 pm) [edit]Would it be a tale so sweet to feel the crimsoned cool release?
I heard the echo in your flight, as you left my door again last night,
Alone in darkness, I sit in fear, and cry that bloody lonely tear.
How is that I lack so much, to not deserve your loving touch?
Leave me please, and let me die, and I will crawl away and hide.
Bury myself into the ground, deep enough to not be found,
Soak in the blood rub in the red, and wish that I can soon be dead.
Dripping soft upon the wood, and stain the satin covered hood,
Accept the night and close the door, and dream a dream that comes once more,
To find me lost this one last time, and forget each word I heard in rhyme,
Forget the paint in each smooth brush, forget the silent screaming hush,
Forget the words with comfort spoke, forget the music of each note,
Forget the smile, the laugh, the eyes, forget the many lonely lies,
Forget the arms, the beating heart, and all that I proclaimed as art.
Falling deep into the dead, I lay my heavy confused head,
To free my mind some place in time, and rest at last as peace I find.