Saturday, 30 January 2016


I have a pen that wants to travel across the lines,
in sentences that go well together; in words that rhyme.
A never ending trail of ink that thinks from it's own mind,
pages covered in a sonnet that'd be sung until the end of time.

My heart has it's own story that it's cried and bled for,
and the tears created a path that would knock on death's door.
Every step that I could ever take would only make me regret more,
even my sighs have lost all life to be consumed by the dead's law.

It was like I was imprisoned in a dark room with but an hourglass,
watching the sands of time drop one by one as the hour passed.
Alone with my shadow that couldn't even be seen,
It was that same feeling like remembering my devoured past.

The devil could only just sit and watch as I endured,
laughing at the sight he beheld with nothing to distort.
I was suffering in myself and he hadn't even played a part,
because he knows, he knows that tasting my pain is secured.

I have journeyed on the path of life always on my own; always alone,
I have needed no one as my shadow accompanied me.
I still felt alone even with the hundreds of contacts on my phone,
and I trembled so ruggedly; as if arms pulled by strings of puppetry.

I wish only that someone would find the hope in my eyes,
a dying plea to be saved from the torture of my mind.
A desire to one day see a clearer and more beautiful sky,
with the sun above us all; so divine and in heavenly shine.

A wish to be picked up from where I had fallen,
to be taken away from the darkness that was calling.
An empty heart that needs to be filled with love again,
perhaps cupid will lead me again to that love to fall in.

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