A bitter truth

My mind is racing. There are all these thoughts that are uncontrollable and rapid. What have I done to deserve such a haunting existence? In all my wildest dreams I never saw this coming. Jaded, cruel, cold and unforgiving. The depths of my soul are shinning its so shallow. My demons are starving, because there is nothing left to devour. I am just too hollow. They run in circles looking for something to swallow. Pushing my thoughts ever forward. To the max. Testing limits but there a none left to test. My nature is broken and untamed. Left unkempt. Maybe in another life I could have seen my own self shine in that sweet Evangelical light. In this life I am ever dark, ever evil and lacking in heart. My indifference knows no equal. Nothing can match up. My expectations turn on themselves for they have nothing else to blame for the goals and levels left unfulfilled. My name has no fame, foolishly I used to dream of being special, of holding my own flame. Yet I am now but an ember, glowing red with shame. Ever faithful to my gods though I am undeserving. I give myself to them knowing its purely self serving. Sometimes at night I can almost recall the woman I though I'd be. But then I look inside the mirror and all I ever see is evil pathetic me. Me the one that relishes the sorrowful cries. Me the one who seeks out victims in the night. Whatever light blessed my presence left long ago. Stranded in perpetual darkness, shackled with my demons in tow. I can not save what is not there. I dont think I even care. My agony is company that nothing can compare. So long inside this endless night, that it's become a home. A home i refuse to take flight from. I dance to the tunes of the golden fiddle. Personal demons stand in place for actual dance partners. No real person dares look upon this face. Nor will i show the torture I embrace. Conflicted with my deviance, forever in its grasp. My affliction is addiction to the terrors of the past. Eyes sunk in a face that is only now a mask. My mistakes on parade just like a marvelous and grand masquerade. Endless train of thoughts bore bare, careless endeavors. Shattering the minds of people like they were only empty cadavers that could not feel. A scientists play thing to be tossed away after poked and proded. Using and abusing every soul.



Words by Luna Nightshade
Read 640 times
Written on 2017-04-24 at 15:03

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Kathy Lockhart
You are special in your own way. You can create. You can emote. You cause others to feel. You are an artist. Take your pain and make it serve you well. Write it like you are now. Practice your art. It is your gift to self and to others.
2017-06-11


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
You are special. You are a writer. This is filled with so much pain. Hugs.
2017-04-29