I sit here in this empty house,
sorrounded by my own despair.
Wallowing in my own dark thoughts,
while spinning in this chair...
I know not why it haunts me,
this despair that which I hide.
It comes now, only to me,
and the pain that I try to hide...
Someday I maybe able to push it all away,
but only with great strength.
For it is my burden,
a curse for me to bear...
Tonight I drove to the lake,
a place where we often sat.
Looking out onto the water,
I cried, for the memories I do not regret...
I sat down on the edge of the water,
letting it chill me to the bone.
Allowing me to feel for once,
the living tone of my heart beating in my chest...
For it is with these memories of us,
that I can muster the strength.
Muster the strength to continue on,
and not give up hopelessly at night...
The water is chilling,
but calming in a way.
Distant lights seem to dance on it,
like children at play...
I watch them for a time,
their dancing, enrapting.
I chuckle with a familiar memory,
of you, interupting a butterfly's dancing...
The lights and the butterfly are one and the same,
free to dance on their own.
How I long to be one of them,
able to live on my own...
For back at home there are people,
that do not like this life I live.
But they cannot hope to see the pain,
that inside me, lives...
Though my face may not show it,
and my actions in which it hides.
But inside I am crying,
for the time that I pray to die...
Someday we may see that day,
the day in which we all die.
And I pray that day comes quickly,
for I am already on the verge of dying...
For though my face may not show it,
and my actions I try to hide.
But inside I am crying,
for the time that I pray to die...
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My Book of Dark Poetry
This is what i write......
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