Innocence Lost in a Black Embrace

Within Rip my flesh from my bone. Bury me and leave me alone with premonitions of 18 vision stone. The unmarked graves of unselfish slaves. A reminder of dehumanization in back alley caves. A savior in his mortality who tries to save. A treason brought fourth on a black day. A knife in the back that leaves a lasting display. Two faces of the same individual leading in two different ways. A faithless fling that sings with protruding force. A life being a blemish on a disdainful course. A stoic laughter in silence, trying to find its true source. The grains of sands run through my hands. A high stake life with death’s demands. You are no more complex, than I am a simple man. Still Life A breeder of hate. A conception of anger that denies happiness. Emotional turmoil that turns sour. A sour taste that resembles ugly. An image that portrays violence. Bleeding the innocence from good. A fountain of clear water that spawns a wrongful pleasure. A filter that burns the positive and reeks the negative. A life that is wasted in its evil doings. A comatose that is not living, nor dead Picking Myself Up Off The Floor My fortitude is withering away in a melting stay. My spirit begs for empathy as my soul is to lay. I have laid here and endured emotional pain. This emotional pain has almost driven me to insane. Yet I forge on to find myself again and again. It is my self that has appeared to be a new-found friend. Every time my head is above water I find myself drowning. This water is overwhelming and my lungs are taking a pounding. For some reason my will to live will not let me die. Once again it proves that my soul is meant to fly. I am a determined soul to make it in this hard world. I am always found in the deepest of waters, only to be discovered as a black pearl. My desire will not let me down. My wings were not meant for the ground. I will always rise again every time someone chooses to knock me down. Fractured Their wicked lies that I have despised have hurt me so. They take me down to burn, yet it is the touch of their toxin that sours my soul. Their lovable smiles are killers hiding behind them. It is their cold stare that shakes me and sends them. It sends them in a frenzy of hate with a massacres scene. It is this peccancy that brings to life this beautiful hate machine. They attack my emotions with a vivid malice. They seek my will for the breaking, which represents callous. They have left me with my emotions to soak in. For I have only been fractured and not broken Author's Comments: "Rumors and lies can hurt you, but cannot break you." When No One Else Believes Everyone looks at you with questions. They have that look of doubt. They don’t believe you can do it. Some even want you to fail. That’s when you look deep within yourself. You find that inner you that doesn’t doubt you. Then when you achieve, when you win, when you overcome; you can say I believed when no one else did. I believed in myself. I believed in my skills. I believed in me. Cancer In the eyes of the Jackal she bore the defiance of a Lion. She roared with ferocity in her intent to become a daughter of Zion. She felt the pain of sickness that overwhelmed her over time. Her battle was long lasted and it was her will that wanted to shine. Her eyes gave the impression of a winner while submitting to defeat. For her to have lasted as long as she did, she was noble in her feat. She faced insurmountable odds. I told her to rest and go with God. I remember her last dying breath. The look she gave me as she submitted herself to death. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I cried. She closed her eyes as she transitioned to the other side. Drowning Souls at the Edge of The World Standing on the edge of the world. It is the souls of sin that have been hurled. The screams are heard through the realm of the dead. Their life of sin left with words that are unsaid. The foul smell of rotting corpses lay throughout the land. It is their meaningless existence that was counted on their hand. They speak no more of tainted sins. It is them that have been forgotten in which their hell begins. Their eyes reflect the pain they dwell in. Their shame is their dignity in which they buy in. They are forgotten souls that left with blistering remorse. It was the meaning of their life that took its course. Dark World I keep banging my head against the window. I keep trying to see the world outside. No more broken glass I grasp in my hands. The splinters are in too deep. I cannot fathom this life. It is this life that rewinds in my mind. I am still trapped in the dark seeking the light. I am tired of brick windows. Torn Love is suicide. When it’s gone, a piece of you has died. It leaves your emotions being denied. It leaves questions that your significant other keeps confined. There is no truth in the game of love. The one that was thought to have come from the heavens up above. Is nothing more than a than cheap imitation of a white beautiful dove. It is not them that has done you in, but the word called love. It is a tempting fruit with juices that flow so sweet. Yet it sours over time and some even turn into deceit. In the beginning this word makes you feel complete. Yet it leaves you empty with your head down in mortal defeat. So I say to you all, love is suicide. The mere speak if it is your finger on the trigger to which you reside. Your heart has been pierced with a broken arrow unto which you have cried. No need for violins in this demeaning saga, it is the word love that has lied. I Just Died I am walking in a world that does not give me recognition. It is an assumption of misguided superstition. Only a handful see me and give me a look. I ponder and wonder what it is I took. I feel like I have been banished from my own society. It is the whispers I hear that bring the cry in me. I am in a lonely scene. It has been redefined and painted as a picture that is mean Masquerade She kisses a black rose as she dines on misery. The expression is full with a touch of innocence. Her stem runs deep in the mouth of madness. She stands before me a wicked representation of black sin. The petals curl up in a fetal position. They embark on a journey of the dead. The slit is made with a replica of death. Walking into the shadows she becomes no more. She is swallowed whole into oblivion Dream Evil They hunger for their lapse of flight. They imagine a fool that distinguishes their insight. They fall to the Ravens who sing. They speak of the time that was bore underneath the Raven’s wing. The eye of the beholder smirks with his vile smile. He lurks with madness in the event of a lasting guile. A black angel who spreads his wings far and wide. In consumption of death is where he likes to reside. A transition from good to evil over time. This evil is withstood allowing him to embark in his prime. A keeper who whisks away the immortal key to immortality. A finder who ignores the scene of a dastardly reality. Inquisition A gliding image rolls across my face. It is a reason of inquisition that has placed me in this place. I ask for mercy to the courts to find me innocent. It is the disagreement of a partial descent. The inquisitor takes me to a room of horrors. They take the blade and butcher my skin as he exclaims he is the restorer. The restorer of faith as he pronounces to my screaming in pain. The pain is immense as I become delusional and empathically insane. My bloody body is a corpse of lost faith. I lost my life in the 14th century called Catholic hate. Author's Comments: "To the freedom to practice all religions" Nihilism An imperative world that screams irony. A system that falsifies its existence. An illusion of what is right. Being blindfolded while relying on trust. Accepting what is displayed in front of us. Chastising the revolutionary who speaks the true word. Nothing can be for real.