This is not a cry for help, or a work of fiction, these are emotions on a page, for others to relate to and know they are understood. I know the struggle and its always an uphill battle


Broken Memoirs

How long? How long can I keep the demon at bay? How long can I keep him out? When will enough be enough? The pain, anguish and dispersement of faith tearing me apart. How long will I stand? How much can I really endure? I fear the end is near. I can see my own demise eeking out of the pen onto the paige. Spelled out in the color of life. Green. My thoughts turn red with the color of death. Someone please just burry the knife! Deep into my side. Through the lungs, through the heart. Stop my air and life rythym. I wish no more to see this world. Someone....Please...help me end my life. Grant me peace of not breathing. Free my epherial soul to go between the realms. Leave this one in a box with the rest of the unwanted. I'm crying out to mother. Mother save me please! My pleas go unanswered. Abandoned, I patiently wait for the monster to climb inside. Fill this broken void. Purchess my useless soul. Darken it as it's taped back whole. I resisted. I fought. Even won a few rounds. My back's against the wall now, no more tricks up my sleeve. Good is dead. The light snuffed out. Evil used all it had to place me in my bag. Here I lay. Broken reflections reverberate mistakes and god given faults. They taunt me. Gilded, Scorned, ripped in shreads I am expected to push on. Those in the dark llaugh as I desperately cling to what is left of a whole. Makes me wonder...Was I ever grand? Beautiful? Chosen? No longer do I believe there was a time when any of those things were true. Lies, spoon fed into an all too eager mouth seeking signs of lost redemption. Pathetic. Sorry sack of skin playing god's warrior. Make believe, I should have accepted, has long been beneath me. Reality is I'm an unwanted, used up, meager, pitiful excuse of a person. Never was I to see Odin, or walk the great halls of Valhala. Only ever a fool dreaming of what will never be.
It was never meant to be



Poetry by Luna Nightshade
Read 496 times
Written on 2017-01-17 at 12:08

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