Retrospective

Whispering cries of the wind

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Blowing between the stones of death

   Whispering cries of the wind

   All have taken there last breath

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Wanting the keys to heavens gate

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Eternity they must wait

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Purgatory is where they lay

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Waiting on God's valet

   Whispering cries of the wind

   You lived the life of sin

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Should have let God in

   Whispering cries of the wind

   Blowing between the stones of death

  

 

 

 

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Chasing Time

Memories are fading,

Remember your smile.

Please tell me you remember mine,

What is lost is not forgotten,

I cherish every moment we were both alive.

 

Seems natural my heart became an icicle cavern,

No man should be told not to feel,

Or compromise.

Lack of passion and driven insanity,

Intoxicated with desire,

An empty bottle filled with the pretence of ego,

Swallowed with pride; still room left to breathe.

 

Haunting memory of a smile almost forgotten,

Here with me, teach me your intoxicating poison:

The drip is an overflow of promises to keep,

I never kept them; do you shower me with shame?

 

The irrelevance I feel,

The impudent, lonesome warrior;

We fought, so I became the fighter,

Limbs become weak in the absence of shelter.

If we could go back in time,

Chasing the same dreams,

Are we still the same aspiration,

Or masked fallacy?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Wisdom with age; regret with youthful rashness.

Overwritten Despondency

every breath I take is another mistake, each exhalation, lingering in this lonely space..
i'd love to just break down & cry.. but puff, pass, i'll let out another deep sigh.. 
the taste of your skin is like... pale sin.
& your smile as dead as the love that's spiraling downward into the drains of past content..
it filters out all the shit.
your eyes feel like daggers, when they're on me..
maybe that's why you can't truly see.. why do you even bother to criticize me.. why hasn't God set me free..?
 
like a fish, starving.. going in circles, de-sha-vu, I don't remember you..
but my intuition tells me otherwise.
an insect, hearing it's last words...
crushed, beneath the foot of mankind.. what sort of man is really all that kind..?
a bird, rattled in a cage.. shaken up.. absorbing rage..
being fed the scum that's left, to hold you sustained..
 
it's like not being able to turn to the next page..
& everyone keeps writing over the page i'm on, & telling me to read it once again.. & again.
until it's all scribbles, on top of one another.. it makes no sense..
you might as well be spitting on me... this is an overwritten despondency...