PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

prayed to every god that never existed,
to give me better intentions.
i am stuck with a bitter heart i dont want to bare.
for i am a patriarch to all the wrong reasons.
i never wanted this.

yet i never not wanted it...
i was never calm or colleceted my presence has always been a doubled edge knife.
i am associated with noise and suffering tho i dont give birth to them.
they have birthed me into this vindictive addictive beast.
no matter what i do i cant put myslef to sleep.
i never dream or am fully a wake.
my life is the frail and overly bland state of limbo.
so repolsive and redundent. yest so dangerous.
where did i go wrong so i can correct myslef.

i have been forced to flee so many lives. i forgot where my intial one starts
for i unwillingly am never in one place too long.
ive been born a nomad with not much of a choice.
with a differant name for each life.

its days like these, where i sit back and recap what ive done...
yet theres nothing to learn or fallback on but my own self.
witch sends me into my own world of broken dreams and stroms that have never truly settled.
my body has landed but by mind is still lost at sea.
when will these illusions of pain and presssure release their grip
living witch is unwilling at times took everthying i had to give.

i am but a storm. nothing but destruction in my path.
and when i vanish so does its existence.
its has happened before, more than once
and it will happen agian
and apparently i am still stuck living the wake of one of my pasts til then

when can i rest and finaly be happy with a life worth living,
instead of countless struggels and haunting memeorys.
if only i could predict the future for once and be correct.
or even be considered slightly right even.
but i am but an unplottable unpredfictable storm.
or atleast to me atleast.

i am only rememberd by my force of destrucion and what i can pour into a problem.
and that problem is me, the storm