As I look into the beast's eyes
I see anger, sorrow, and hatred I think to myself , Poor soul Derived mad by its own thoughts Then I take one more at it and realize It's me It was just my reflection
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Every second of every minute of
every hour of everyday, I feel the pain growing stronger and stronger inside of me. Many have suffered, no one has survived For this is a battle you cannot win. You cannot fight it, all you can do is lie back and watch as you lose yourself, Until there's nothing left to save, just an empty shadow, And a trail of broken dreams. running,
falling, stumbling, stalling. sprinting towards it. gleaming white, with red teeth. right, beneath. tumbling, down, down, down. hitting the ground. missed it, dropped, as it flopped. from my hand, like sand. my vision is gone the battle, is lost. leaving my eye, looking glossed. Some days are satisfying
filled with relief and continuity. Others, drown in suspension and longing. One moment of expressions and song leaves one lovestruck and powerless against the stable flow of life and love. Yet no seeker lies between them. Fairness and wishes must not be given... all the time. Observing with anger and wishful thoughts but knowing that the bond can never be broken between two long lasting ropes. Moving on to new beginnings can throw one's mind into haywire, but the fait is not changed. He walked alone, amidst the snow. His grimy bare feet dragged behind, tinged with the sorrow of a deep blue. It was more then just despair now; it was hatred of what had become of his life. It could have been different. The future could have flourished, beckoning to him with open arms. His life could have had meaning, but his hope had been crushed long ago.
He attempted to stare into the window of his past home. At the story he could’ve portrayed. But his pages were blank. None cared of his beginning, or ending. He was met only by a disheveled reflection, as he peered into the window. A greasy unwashed beard hid his face from the world, and a porous hat shielded the rest. Year old paper-thin clothes hid the tarnished skin beneath, caused by years of hatred, regret, sorrow, and resentment. Resentment to the world that turned its back on him, resentment for the one mistake the cost him his job, his house, and his life, and resentment for himself. Again he tried to look through the window, at the life taken so easily from his grasp. Inside was a family, huddled together in a soft blanket, drinking steaming hot chocolate next to a blazing hearth. Flames licked the top of the fireplace, dancing with jubilation. Frozen with grief, he continued to stand, petrified by the complete and utter realization that his life would never change. As his unmovable bare feet collapsed under him, he fell towards his own blanket, one without color. His life story came to his mind, but it was not a tale worth recalling. His crust-covered eyes lay open, as he turned on his back. He wanted his last memory, unlike so many others to be a radiant one. Flecks of white fell against a blackened sky. His mind and eyes laid a daze, as the last of his breathe floated from a lifeless body. |
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