It's Funny...

I used to sit here without any emotion and would be able to write for days at a time, simply twisting words and phrases into poetic symphonies--at least in my own opinion... Now with all these feelings of stress, sorrow, and anxiety have no place in my writing structures. I can't write the way I used to, but maybe that's a good thing. I see writing more as a tool to express what you feel rather than: hypothesize, organize, analyze, and then compose. Basically it's not suppose to be rehearsed, you just say it. 

Day after day I'm faced with a new challenge to an old problem and it just kills me. And every time I get around that problem, a new one births itself on my "new path". It is indeed a tragedy. Tragic. Rhymes with magic, but it certain isn't that magic found in a fairy tale, heavens no. I think society does an excellent job of setting children up to fail when they reach the real world; mainly for that fact that they get babied time and time again. Do I feel like I've been babied? Well, I suppose. But I also feel like I am a lot further along than some people I've come across over the years... Rambling, one of my "best" habits. 

Whenever all of these depressing notions come to mind, I say hey! I'm an optimist, so you can go away. It works about eighty percent of the time, but that extra twenty percent is a fucking bitch to deal with. Looking at this little piece of bullshit note that I call my own writing, I start to feel upset with myself because there's no point and it's all a mess. Some writer I am... ha. All I know is, that through all of this bullshit. No matter how thick it may get. I will always see that little spec of light and I will never give up the battle. 

Wise Words

"Time stops for no one," a wise man once told me.

No matter what pain or suffering you face within this journey of life,

Time will mend the severed wounds that bleed your heart dry.

Through this pain you learn a lot about yourself;

For example: who you are, what you want out of life, what you will become...

The list goes on, but it's your own perseverance that will guide you.

At this point I feel quite frail, weak in a disgust over what I have become;

Not a man quite yet, but far from just a boy.

My wounds have mended but to what extent?

Close to emotionless, feeling more distant from existence each day.

As the clocks serve their rounds, twisting the time away,

I feel trapped in an hourglass of life,

The sand isn't stopping and neither is time.

For me to give up hope is to be buried alive.

I have no intention of quitting,

I'll keep a shovel at hand in case I make a mistake along the way.

Time waits for no one,

But I have no need to slow down.

Striving

As the ruins fall beneath you,

the crumbling stone will serve not only as a reminder of the battle,

but the failure of the structure itself.

Two hands can mold a future,

but four hands can perform the task with greater success.

Years will pass, remember the fallen memories,

each day breathes a new challenge, but look forward to a brighter future.

Though the haze may be too hard to cut through, keep walking the distance,

the path will always find your feet, and you'll make it out of the ruins

of the building you used to call a home.

Your Worst

I am the dream breaker.

The hunter of hopes and the thief of paper,

Your writings and money will not last in my presence,

For I am the thief who will ruin your life.

As an example I take the time you have,

I'll distort it and morph it, leaving you nothing,

My fuses are short, so don't push my buttons,

With a quick trigger-finger and the force of an army,

Souls get devoured without signs for strife.

Tempt me, I dare you,

No second thoughts to spare you,

Since I am the phantom you fear every night,

Words cannot disrupt the path I have planned.

Nights remain sleepless,

A storm that you sleep with,

Forcing in nightmares to fracture your comfort,

I'm a walking disaster,

fixated on your minds porch.

You'll be incarcerated by my voice,

Falling from your poise,

To remain as solely nothing,

Lifeless.

Hope.

How long do you have to suffer before it's all worth it?

Is there an easier way to ease the pain?

Take a look at your life and what you plan to do with it,

Remember your not the only one going through the tragedies and corruption of mankind.

Life was designed to break you,

Make you bend, fold, and twist you in every direction.

It's a test to see how much you can take,

And with every ounce of you that proves that you're strong enough,

Brightens the light and keeps your eyes open for hope.

Through it all, you don't have to suffer another second;

Just believe you are the strength that forces away the darkness,

And know that you, yourself are the key to easing the pain.

Lethargic

I used to be a man, but I awoke as a demon tonight.

Half-man, half beast, a werewolf in the flesh,

My rage is uncontrollable and my patience is gone;

As a lycan I will destroy you, in every way you have destroyed me.

I've become soulless because of you.

Hindered by this full moon in the sky,

Nostalgic of what we used to be;

No longer will I suffer another day.

My veins flood with fury, boiling beyond my own will.

I have formulated into a walking nightmare,

A dream eater to all happiness we once shared;

I will bury you alive, after I've had my fill.

Life's Only Promise

When I was younger
I used to write my name in the sand
The tides washed it away.

As I grew older
I would etch it in wet cement
But they paved over the markings.

Now I know
The only permanent remainder of my existence resides upon an epitaph
Yet, it's just another hole in the ground.