Conversion in Expression (Parts 1 & 2 "Eternal Reprise"& "Mirrored Agony"))

 A poet tries to empty his mind,
to free the thoughts best left behind..
He pulls out, the blank white pages,
so he can vent all of his swollen rages.

Yet the paper, it is thin indeed...
unable to compensate.
It could not absorb all he would bleed,
in his dark and vulnerable state.

So be it his fate...to self terminate?
Will it initiate if I instigate?
Should I wait...as the screams resonate?
For his hate, proceeds to enervate.

Festering alone, in the prison of bone,
his dwindling spirit decays.
Must he atone...for the seeds once sown...
During his darkest of days?

Never is the ending, for the soul's bitter rending,
revived after each of it's deaths.
With each resurrection, there's no time for reflection,
for hope has taken the last of it's breaths.

He,
The one
who's broken,
withered and torn
to his very core.
Finally believing,
there's no end to his grieving,
he wonders what he's fighting for.
As he kneels and cries, his weary eyes
see his demise, in eternal reprise.
_____________________________________________

So what can be expected of him now?
He tries to move on, not knowing how.
Indefinitely he is chained,
to the abyss, where he's drained.
Internally destroyed,
happiness devoid,
no escaping,
from the pull
of the
void.

So what must he do? The sorrow reigns true...
suffocating notions of joy.
Mirrored is pain, reflecting disdain,
as despair continues to destroy.

Inside of him, rests a future so grim,
his aspirations are bleak at best.
At Misery's whim, his chances are slim,
so he lays all of his dreams to rest.

Deep down inside, where pride has died...
agonies reside...as regrets coincide.
With Happiness denied, as  his worries collide,
yes...suicide, is vaguely implied.

Yet, he knows that death will come in time,
and will eventually take his hand.
Until then, he will continue to rhyme,
as many will claim to understand.

So now that his thoughts have finally bled,
the bright white pages...now stained in red.
With his mind now calm, barren of rage,
He can now remove his pen from the page....