-
When the windows to your soul
rest upon those certain other
windows, you can almost feel
alive, and your soul breaks
down just a little bit further,
and you hear that voice...
Oh, such a monotonous melody
to your ears.
Am I right?
Wait, no...
I'm sorry, that's just me.
Besides, the voice is more
like an austere symphony.
Apples fall off trees as
much as this madness continues.
An oasis would stretch out across
a desert before the beast
in my poor, withered, broken
soul can be accepted by a
society filled with mediocre hippocrissy
led into action by none other
than the lecherous thief of my soul.
A tearstained face, a clown with
a frown, the artist within the beast
leaves no trace of a picture
covered in paint, black canvas,
where to start
with this heart-breaking art?
Burn the blank pages
away to end the misery of this
wilting soul, a rose left to die
in the dead of night.
How much more can this last?
How much more emptiness
will my blank canvas have to
endure before everything
turns to dust?
Had we been honest about
ourselves, the vile, monstrous
desire within these beating
things in us would be less alluring.
But we all know that each of us
have a certain order within our mess,
a kind of peace within our chaos,
a type of happiness within our depression,
that deep within the turmoils
in the confines of our skulls
only we can understand.
You may call it living out a life.
I call it dying from the moment we are conceived.
But only a handful of philosophical
geniuses have a sense to flee.
You said you wanted to see life,
death, and everything in between
from my point of view.
Well, do you like what you see?
No, I wouldn't think so.
Damn, at least try to keep
up with me.
![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Don't Get Lost Now
- Artist: Dommexi
- Description: what happens when you lose your soul (abstract poetry)
- Date: 03/10/2010
- Tags: loss disaster angst psychological drama
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...