The War within Me. Walking on sticks so I wouldn’t drown, In the puddle of trauma below the crown, Looking below like I’m way up above, At the streets of my mind flooded with disgust. Cottages ripped and so forsaken, Manholes sucking in and keeping what’s taken, Little alleyways just leading to much more pain, The walls of my mind soaked with blood rain. No one lives here, but I alone, No one enters; I don’t leave this tomb of stone, And like a sacred church securing holy blood, My mind secured my betrayal and love. On the ceiling is painted my life so far, And the floods of trauma reach up to scar, Nothing is spared and the darkness looms, Over the city of my mind, it’s shattered, doomed. I pace uneasy in my solitary presence, I smell the rusted scent of endurance, I fight the cobwebs that hang above, My minds too old, I’m too young to give up. And then I heard it, the heavy gagged beats, Suffocating themselves in hastened retreats, And I felt a wind so thick and strong, My last few moments wouldn’t last too long. I started swimming through the waters, Hoping the distance would only get shorter, And the floods became redder, And the waves crashed against each other. The torrents blew me farther away, The crimson grew thicker to clay, And I struggled for a last finger hold, And grabbed my hand onto something musty and cold. I looked up astonished, at a large heart, My heart, and it was paling to dark, Was devouring it an evil disease of hate, Was overshadowing it a plague of waste. Demons reflected themselves on the skin of my heart, And I screamed, and I screamed till my throat grew hard, And I let go of myself into those floods, I drowned in myself, for my heart had given up.
Thanks gan, when i have the time, i will surely comment on your stuff. It's 3:13 a.m. here so maybe later. thanks.