deepundergroundpoetry.com

Not Me (part 3)

Arrogance has led me to believe,
that one day sadness would take its leave.
But I have come to the conclusion,
that peace of mind is a cruel delusion.

The only space in this bitterness,
is reserved for the numbing emptiness.
The feeling that continues to devour,
is now aware of its overwhelming power.

It is now sorrow, fueled by intent,
making every sad moment a moment hell spent.
It now becomes the pinnacle of emotion,
the island of devotion in the lonely ocean.

The tides of sorrow slowly recede,
yet return to drown the weakened seed.
So agony makes it's mark once more,
tearing through to my brittle core.

I am alone, but I am at war,
so nothing but hard times are in store.
Since my birth �I was discarded,
constantly ridiculed, constantly bombarded.

Today is no different, still I am taunted,
by the savage anguish by which I'm haunted.
I am tired of leading this foolish crusade...
I'll always see life in a darker shade.

When will the day finally come,
for the harps of joy to freely strum?
When will it finally be my turn,
to bask in that which I truly yearn?

NEVER is the answer that was given,
and so the stake is relentlessly driven.
There is no reason for me to dream...
for love has drowned in its own scream.

So now I ask, what is left?
After agony's merciless theft.
The main things that I cared about...
were lost to fear, and to doubt.

Now I sulk in joy's fragile ashes,
as tears rain down and lightning flashes.
The madness begins to take it's hold,
leaving a vessel that's empty and cold.

Rage and regret fuels him now,
the tears turn to steam upon his brow.
A maniacal grin overtakes his face...
the good consumed in negative space.

He lives now just to corrupt,
and to hatefully self-destruct.
The once vibrant feelings now innate,
with only hate to appreciate.

After all of the struggles, he has lost...
crushed by the winds where the ashes tossed.
He wanders now, weak and destroyed,
harnessing in him a terrible void.

Death will not find him, nor will peace,
a beast of burden on a tormenting leash.
Never expressing what he has felt...
dying a thousand deaths within himself.

And as we search for reasons to go on,
we realize happiness is just a word long gone.
We walk the lonely deserts of reprieve...
with nothing to comfort and nothing to believe.

Dead we walk, as the voice of misery,
though once a good man...I am no longer me...