The Gorge


What makes us cry? What makes us feel so insecure that we throw ourselves from the worn down path that we trudge in our quest to keep sane and allow ourselves to be thrown into the cavernous hole of hell that is so dark and without meaning that our minds simply shrivel to a structure of most insignificance? It simply can be blamed on the coarse and hostile words that are thrown down like thunderclaps by those that stand on the isolated cliffs above: To which we seek the most of solace from. But to say that the individuals are to be solely blamed is to ignore the high cliffs of comfort that the blamer grants those that fire these heinous slandering's, that grant them immunity from their own words.


We walk a path between oblivion of the mind and the souls destruction, void of a sense of right or wrong to which our pride consumes like a cancer. For many, this road is filled with sharp stones made from our past grief's and the far too ominous memories which seek to hinder us in our pursuit of the happiness that we are often told is but to be had at the posting of a picture or the following of an icon. These jaggered rocks prick into your skin and bled you of all positive blood that your weak veins pitifully pulse in an effort to delude you into thinking it all is but a headache of a former life.


To your left, the words bounce back and forth, playing squash against your skull; causing you to topple backwards, your hands splintering at the pressure that the memories of your downfall and the black abyss is to your right: Its so very tempting to take as a purple black bile oozes from the rocks and takes you to a small peaceful area, an eye in the storm. The shouts and calls become distant as the whisperings take hold of your bleeding ears that no longer want the harsh hardship of the torment that the path presents. You listen to them a'e the screaming of the privileged tell you that your life, so frivolous and lacking in the proper worth to be worthy of happiness, just needs to end. The whisperings argue that life only begins when you cast aside the microbes of possessions and into that unknown that the chasm offers.


On the path, the shouting and screaming stops. The chasm ends its mutterings and leaves you on the floor, your humanity spilling out on the rocks as your eyes and will grow weak. You have two options.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Second poem, hope its alright to read as I know it was good to write it!

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Don't be alarmed,

I will let this wash over you,

Like quiet clouds,

Before a hurricane,


I am staring at a billboard,

Imagining how much better my life would be if it burned to the ground,

Taking with it all the other careless useless signs that beg for money like homeless people,


I hate that I'm angry today,

I hate that I'll still be angry tomorrow,

I'm too young,

Too naive too restless,

Unaware that I can't change,

That I won't get what I want,

That my heart too can be cruel,


Everyday I see crumbling houses where nuclear families must've opened presents,

Rescued their first dog,

Bought their new American car,

Those ghosts,

How they welcome the weeds and mice,

Inviting the water that slithers in during the rain,

All seeking solice from the bitterness of the city,


The world is not like the textbooks or,

The stories my mother would read me before bed,

My innocent eyes glowing with intrigue,

The world is like the strips of paper littered with special offers,

Dwelling in every mailbox, webpage, street corner,

Meaningless, soulless, greedy

Like this damn billboard,

I want my own advertisment,

It will read; "throw this away, fall in love, go somewhere new, repeat"


I'm sick of our roads,

This vast network of pavement,

That spreads everywhere,

But only takes us to the same places,

I want off the carousel,

The endlessness of routine,

I long to break free from the grasp of,

the hands that hold the elevator,

For the select few,

We lunatics will take the stairs,

We'll douse every white wall in blood red,

Engrave our shameful names into each step,

Screaming our battle cries,

We will see you at the top,

The ones you tried to change,

The ones you tried to bury,

The ones who don't know what's good for them,

You may fancy us mad,

But actually we're quite happy,

Adversity our white sand,

Revolution our calm waters.


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অদ্ভুত সমাজের অংশ মোরা!

সমাজের এ কেমন চেহারা!

অদ্ভুত সমাজের অংশ মোরা!

একজনের বদনামে অন্যের সুখ মেলে,

একজন সফল হলে অন্যের গা আগুনের মত জ্বলে!


নিজের নাক কেটে অন্যের যাত্রা করে ভঙ্গ আজ!

পরশ্রীকাতরতায় নেই কারো লাজ,

অন্যের সমালোচনায় মেলে স্বর্গীয় সুখ,

প্রতিবেশীর সম্পত্তিলাভে কারো হিংসায় হয় জবার মত লাল মুখ!


সাহায্য করে যে তাকেই ঠকায় নিমিষে,

ভরে গেছে দেশ আজ অকৃতজ্ঞ আর অকৃতঘ্ন মানুষে,

মুখে বলে এক আর করে আরেক,

ভণ্ড যারা তারাই নাকি আজ দেশের বিবেক!


মন মানসিকতা না পালটালে,

যুগের সাথে তাল না মিলালে,

দেশ ও জাতি হবে উন্নত কেমনে?

হায়! এ সাধারণ সত্য সকলে জানে, কিন্তু কজনে মানে?


সত্যিকারের দেশপ্রেমিক যারা,

তারা আজ বন্যাদুর্গতদের মত দিশেহারা!

দেশ ও মানুষের তরে কোনও কল্যাণকর উদ্যোগ নিলে,


হিংসুটের দল দানবের মত এসে দেয় সব ডুবিয়ে জলে।

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Streets Governed Criminal

Can you grasp something that's invisible
In the streets governed by the streets driven criminal
In the sheets, painted up with a face that isn't yours
and your hands tainted with the blood of others, and unopened doors

The sun has gone down, and the homeless are freezing
Some dancing around, and with food appeasing
While you and some others are in the room all alone..
and the air smothers you, and anxiety brings life out of the zone

A hand comes out of your thumping heart, and suffocates you silly
It comes out screaming, and dumping the pain of the world, and you get chilly
You wish you could save the world, and cradle the ill in your hands
Bring, pave and stretch out the curled, lost, to comfort the bullied trans

What is the world, when you walk around to live with someone else's blood on your hands
To live when you ignore and talk happiness but can't give and end the flood to the disappearing lands?
Don't you ever wonder what the world means when there's a bunch of so called nobodies?
Acting like a blunder is a murder and people just have a hunch who you are, and lay on our tragedies?

What is morality?
When we are bathed in brutality?
Laugh it off like we don't know,
While people are screaming below
and someone has to pay and die
and all people say is "I'm sorry, I can't, goodbye."

This is humanity.
We all try to ignore the insanity.
and someone's on the floor crying for someone to be there
and others just seem to kick, scream and glare
but for their sisters and brothers they'd probably shed a tear
But for anyone else they say they can't be here

It's truly disgusting
Respect is forever rusting
Screaming "Equality!" yet fighting and burning homes in it's name, adding blood to the unnecessary sea of issues of gender and "race" and the others trivial differences we try to hold
Through actual frivolity of rewriting and turning around simple non-offensive words like its a game, yet somehow determining what you are by shape of your face, through privileged or how old
When we both share the same organs, the emotions, and planet
breathing the same air, through the grass and granite
and still we fight which status, and hands matter the most
Competing with our apparatus and plans, that catch the eye to bleed one of our fellow brothers as a host

What's the point if we stand on dead bodies to live?
To disjoint lives that are so much more meaningful and bite the hand that gives?

This must be the meaning of our lives
To bleed a poor soul and find the next one that arrives.

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Parade of Despair

Through the wet and rainy streets,
Cloaked in the liar's contacts. and bloody sheets
You know not of where you go,
But the blood you walk over and sew.

In this time, you believe you are okay,
Okay with murder that goes throughout the day
Through the homeless cries and terror
It's not your life or your own error

What's another's heart to hold in your hand mean?
If it doesn't give you the satisfaction and the attention of a queen?
Maybe somewhere, within your sickest dreams
Perhaps piercing the thickness, you can hear humanity screams
and in some part of your mind you care,
Or fail again, laughing maniacally as the blood drips in cold despair

Somehow, their commotion to you is entertaining
The bickering and troubles all the more sustaining
and yet somewhere, deep down, you realize it's not right.
But the sickness blinds you again, back again in the fright

Morality is like your brother, inside your mind, telling you it's wrong
But your voice cries out more louder, constantly crying, "But do I belong?"
and the shadow creeps in control of your hands and strikes again,
Like an old friend you've parted with that was poison, comes back attempting to explain

They say you are fine and you will be okay.
Like you say, except you are actually mentally astray
As the hand of sickness inside your mind plans out the next move
In reality you are empty, she says you have nothing to prove

The disgusting woman that is called society
Bringing forth what you tell others is anxiety
She holds you tight, like a incoherent mother
Whispering to you as she smothers you "There is no other"

Somehow throughout all that you have, depression calls,
Your father, comes to tell you "Despite the beautiful colors, you live within empty walls"
You cry for them to stop speaking
But they stop for none, they continue their horrid shrieking

As you fall to the ground, you try to escape by sleeping,
But it's only for a few hours, and time is weeping
You try to deny the things that you have mean and done
You salute to the cracked, and broken blurred skies of failure, and with it a black sun
Forever bringing a slanted shadow, that was once you, pleading "Bring me back, this wasn't really fun"

You yearn for something deep down, but without purpose for some reason
and your faces change again and again, like the months and the season
You know not anymore of what the world means to you
Forever alone you will be, cursed, trapped in your built igloo.

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Insight in reality

We all breathe, we all bleed

we all burn our skin beneath the same sun.

we all dry run our works of labels,

we all try to be able,

but never enough to turn the tables..

always finding to be unable to find purpose,

always finding ourselves nervous,

nervous in a world full of ignorance and hatred

all because some of us are afraid to bleed.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i dont know exactly where i was going, i was writting this while depreseed 

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The key to happiness

I would introduce myself but it doesn't matter who I am.

I am insignificant, like you. 


No one will remember my name or what I have done,

Or rather what I haven't done.

But to dwell on this thought would be like giving in,

Letting your insignificance stop you from living.


Do not focus on being who people want you to be,

Do not let success be your only option,

Do not fear disappointment or failure,

Simply live.


Never regret anything that makes you smile,

Never forget those irresponsible times that made you who you are today,

Don't let yourself be the picture everyone else has painted you to be,

Be you,

Be true,

Fuck the system. 

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A Path Towards Nowhere

As I gain control of the sun,

I don't know where these feelings came from

And soon engulfed in the power, I became corrupt

My soul at stake, and my heart sewn shut


With all to have, and everything to lose

To people to expect you, but later no one to enthuse


And like anything, nothing seems to go as planned

Beauty and grace, quickly sunken in the quicksand


Will you and I become like the one everyone dreams?

Or be the source of why everyone shivers and screams?


Tell me, is everything ever so perfect?

When all we see is beauty in the defect?


The balance must be exact, they say

Else things quickly fade and thus, end night and day


Life is so very hard, don't you think?

The pure water turns to blood, quickly down your sink


But you and I have lost the mind to care

When you've gone down a path towards nowhere


As I go deeper, the world becomes dark and lonely

Life becomes artificial, greedy, and phony

Even the calmest of hearts can go dark

To the quietest rabbit, into a hungry shark

And the sky has no own to owe it to shine down to

Our hearts are now corrupt, frozen, and black and blue

And thus everything becomes pitch black

And those we love the most, die from a heart attack

All because we ignored the qualities we lack.

Everything can change by just one small decision

Little do we know it can change what we envision

What ever will you call a home now?

Everything but the past and dust upon what we call living

To what we cherished, fought, and nature that was once giving...

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Within My Own

A being sewn with fine broken lace and without any eyes

Worn and torn, thus broken and weathered by years of many lies

Clings onto the forgotten but once noticed shelf just once more

Before the time comes to be shattered by the reality and the floor


I dare not speak of the past and the tunes played

But to mention the emotions that filled up this now empty room ,and warmed the hearts of many, once important but now meaningless

Comes now the cold and wicked air of the fallen and betrayed


She begs me now not to go back,

But I must travel the past once more

The confidence was there but now today I lack

because I fail to recognize when to shut the door


What was now alive is long gone, and dead

As we sing for another day, while someone else loses their head

The unspeakable and unmentionable becomes now our vision

We ignore and feign ignorance to proceed with our own decision


Greed is right behind my shoulders

I say that I must not become like the rest of the world

I try to kill the dark behind me but wait another day once more

I ripped the happiest moments from the book of memories

to hold it dearly, but it blocks my path today as huge boulders


As you try to lock the door

Something whispers faintly but ever so determined to your ear

"Do not dare forget, but do not be sore."

"The present dies, but a future born does not represent fear"

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