S/words

I’ve lived by the sword
And died by the word
Saw the fall of all I knew
And the rise of all I forgot
In the cold of the silent night
Not even the winds will howl for me
As the scars of the love once shared
Fell aside to the opening wound laid bare
And now old melodies of melancholy echo on
Long into the morning before there is light

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Cold December

I write the words, I will never say
Of thoughts I’ll never remember
Here in this cold December
I feel the heat of Hell nip at my heels
And know no peace
In the nights growing longer
As the apathy ebbs and flows like the tides
In a mind an empty dark sea
Craving a conclusion to my questions
And knowing the only solution
That never manifests in the waking hours
Between the short breaths of air and sighs of despair
Here in the solitude of disrepair
That echoes in my head

Up slide

In the halls of Shambala
I tumbled down a thousand steps up to Nirvana
Only to find my karma was gone
And here in this beautiful palace all alone
I found Hell
A gilded cage full of rage
For the soul I did sell
Like a hotel in California
You can check out anytime you like
Though you might not make it back
To where you came from
To where you want to go
You’ll find any pretense
To go from zero to intense
Basking here in the midnight sun
Trying to find the light of the day
To the violence I pray
Relief for none
As the conflict grows
And the blood flows
It floods the hole
Where should be a soul

Stutter Stop

Without reason or rhyme

It was only a matter of time

That will echo in minds

For what they will find

 

Without a whisper or a scream

Comes the end of the dream

It was not a nightmare, you see

Yet it was not fantasy

 

It simply was

And it simply wasn’t

The complications of expectations

Of something better

Feeling meant for something greater

Yet surviving instead as one does

 

A choice is made

A choice that has no true consequence

That leaves no voice to be heard

Only the melancholy of silence

For there is no word

 

That can truly explain all the pain

That dwells in the brain of one not quite yet insane

The heart grows lazy

As the soul goes crazy

 

The will to pump blood staggers and stutters

As the mouth only mutters

The last gasp of words that come to mind

It was only a ……….