Running on empty <4 years Later>
And there was silence
No words
Just absence of sentence
Like we had no license
To speak in constance
As life sometimes
Leaves us out of balance
Creating a clearance
That leaves room for a voidance
But
In the distance
There will be a defiance
Breeding
A distinct guidance
Assistance
That will rid us of silence
Thus
Creating a brilliance of conversation
That will match a fragrance in sweetness
And yet be full of substance and essence
For now
Let us be in coexistence
And the sharing of words
Today
Spell out incongruence
Let us enjoy
the incipience,
the commencement of ourselves,
into this experience.
Tragedy of Life
Living life facing the melancholy, but being awed by the beauty.
Bifurcates your heart, your will, your strength and your meaning.
Going through the dark quagmires in life
Leaves stronger and stranger and steals a piece of you for it.
I am at the best time of my life, I am happy, by my definition of it.
But when the clock strikes 12 and the ghosts of the past come knocking,
But when the clocks strikes 1 and the ghosts of the present come knocking,
But when the clocks strikes 2 and the ghosts of the future come knocking,
I am left thwarted wishing the grim reaper would come for my soul
I am left yearning for a sense of freedom from the tragically beautiful life
That I am bound to, till all my heart, my strength and my will, Is syphoned
I live the life as it is given, I do not choose it.
I only choose to make beauty with the time
I find myself unable to stare beauty in its eyes, for fear of losing it, signifiying a lack?
I fear a creeping from the darkness is coming, but then again
I do not fear the tragedies, for they only mean my end draws near
I am torn by the beauty that is living
and the beauty that is freeing my soul from the pain
I am torn for losing the beauty in life means I am closer to the freedom
I am torn for gaining the beauty in life means I am further from the freedom
I am torn for I have the strength to live today and do no wish it
I am torn for I do not know how long my will will sustain me
Or maybe like a vagabond, my life will fade,
Or maybe like a wine, my life will age,
Beautifully, but today this is my quandary.
I am living but would be thankful for death.
So then, in my next life, I wish to be a flower, and think not these thoughts
So then, am I alive or am I broken and does it matter?
For till then I will wander these barren lands seeking beauty, creating beauty,
till the toxicity of these lands I can bear no longer in my golden age
And I will fade hopefully into the nothing never to exist in this form again
So then the tradegy of life is not life itself.
But the strength within these bones that chooses to live it
The fire in my heart that will die only after consuming the beauty we desire
So then the tradegy of life is that I live it and will till....well that doesnt matter.
Karma’s a Bitch.
For in the days of innocence,
When my compass only knew the dogmatic sense of right and wrong,
I let you walk, despite the sins you committed
I was not rich enough, powerful enough, privy enough
To exact my wrath and make you fall to your knees
And beseechingly repent as if I was your god
In those days, I believed in some sense of universal justice
That would convict you, making you pay the price for your sins
But those days are long gone.
And I will be that vegence, one day
I will be the fire that scathes you
Without a word, or reason why
You will recompense for your transgressions
I need you not to know, it is this sin
That you pay the price for.
But I will create a cloud of torment,
That will rain myriads of questions upon your soul
Levying questions that you will not be able to answer.
In this way, I guess,
I am the sense of universal justice, of my days of youth
In this way,
I am the karma that will come for you, Bitch!
Hulking out!
I am calm
I am composed I can do this, I can do this
It starts out that way
As I navigate through the storm of emotions
Masked with smiles and laughter
and heavy, deep, calming breaths
Accompanied with surges when provoked
but I am breathing, I am breathing
Frantically searching for a way
A way to make the green guy go night night
I can feel the alter ego is ready to play
twinkle, twinkle
In the silence, a rapid possession
to hell with this...
Then like a volcano, mad eruptions
Fists to wall, fists to floor, fists to surface
As I envision total destruction of all that sorrounds
My mind tabulates, the afforded the casualties
Or is sometimes silenced with thoughtless action
In a flash, the floor is flooded, the bed's mess
And something is surely broken
Slowly I awaken, bruised or with bleeding knucles
And I sit there, enjoying the moment of carthasis
As I sink back into reality
Alone
Surrounded by thousands
But none understood
Browsing for drivers
To interpret reality
Yours, theirs, ours
Hoping for cousins
To drown howling,
The howling loneliness
Bred by islands,
Islands we dwelleth
Sometimes tribes scout
Loneliness’s shouting dulls
Tribes become fountains,
Fountains of friendship
Keeping you founded
Sometimes loneliness rouses
The drowning happens
Till loneliness survived,
Or you die
In the loneliness,
Alone.
#alone #poetry
Running on empty
And there was silence
No words just absence
Of sentence
Like we had no license
To speak in constance
As life sometimes
Leaves us out of balance
Creating a clearance
That leaves room for a voidance
But
In the distance
There will be a defiance
Breeding
A distinct guidance
Assistance
That will rid us of silence
Thus,creating a brilliance
Of conversation
That will match a fragrance
In sweetness
And yet be full of substance and essence
For now
Let us be in coexistence
And the sharing of words today
Spell out incongruence
Let us enjoy
the incipience,
the commencement of ourselves
into this experience.