Monday, November 5, 2012

Gaunt and Gallow

I lay here thinking, wondering what will it come of. I lay here looking to the future and the past, wondering how to alter the present to make the good things last. I ask for help, a sign, an answer. I question my resolve, doubt my thirst, my soul is a cancer. When all is dead, the outside barren because the soil is dry, when all has wilted and gone because the earth is parched and robbed, I will be the dry corpse, the filthy feint of a dream lost, a nightmare realized and a death's shadow walking. Can't the end be troubled no more by the occurrences of the present. Why won't will in of itself steer the course of this storm tossed vessel. Skies clear, clouds lighten, I beckon the bright, warm sun. Calm this startled, splintered heart for no more can it hold these heavy things. Brittle and broken this bony man be and may the end of this drought come quickly to me.

Day By Day

Some days come and go without a sound. Others pass by with barely a whisper but they shake us to our bones, to our soul, to our heart.</p>
<p>Depression, madness, rage are born from this silence. The quiet consumes our thoughts, preys on our fears, invokes in us a primal, unquenchable anger.</p>
<p>Please end. Please never come. Please be gone. This hollow hole of a being will falter finally.

Feared Future

Tracing down a forlorn wall, the lies portrayed fester and fan the echoes of inhuman horrors wrought by man's hand. What will be our end, our eulogy, our conviction once our soul has leaked out from our cold, callous, depraved hearts. Will the wretched stench of our failure and selfish fealty wreak upon the lofty clouds of heaven. As one's gaze lifts upwards they will lament and weep over the stains that our sins have lavished upon the sky. The once vast, hopeful and inspiring palette will no longer brighten. Its rains will no longer refresh. Its canopy will no longer comfort from the suffocating heat. Like virulent mold our lives will spread poison and sour all that is good. For we are man. May we unite in the discord we embrace.

A Structure

Thoughts collide in our minds distinguishing feeling and emotion. It's nearly troublesome and awe-inspiring at the same time to attempt to comprehend how fear and bliss, anxiety and peace, revulsion and solace can exist in one's mind. Granted, these emotions are rarely felt at the same time but they can at times be turned from one to another like the pages of a book. I think part of the key to survival and in a way happiness is focusing on things that bring us joy, dealing with matters that make us feel otherwise and then attempting to let those negatives go as best we know how. That control is at times extremely difficult to master and perhaps even impossible but nonetheless necessary to try. Control what you can control.