As a gray cloud of hate
shrouds my heart,
I amuse myself with the
petty desires of a newborn raindrop
cascading to it’s delicate death.

A drowsy, dismal array of
mystical visions that only
darkened my voyage,
and murdered the last shred
of peace existing throughout my
withering spirit.

I am the lonely prisoner
of a soul
lost within itself.
No where to lay it’s anguish to rest.
No one to burden it’s weight against.

Violet colored confusion
resides somewhere deep
inside of me.
Am I to carry on this
forsaken journey deemed life?

I must somehow shed
this curtain of skin
smothering my ambition and
erasing my wanton urge to succeed.

I wish to be whole again.

Whole again.
Just as I deserve to be.
As I someday will be.
Forever dwelling on the avengeful past,
lavishing up it’s delusions and
detailing it very need for power.

And I will cry myself to sleep.
Floating in my dreamscape paradise.
Feeling nothing but hope.
Receiving nothing but slants of love.
I will triumph over my hidden demons.

Chasing them away.
Locking them tightly into the hell
I have perceived for so long.

A gift of hell given to me.
And now I pass it on to you so graciously.

04/09/1995

Author's Note: old wounds are as hard to forget as jaded lovers

Posted on 01/15/2005
Copyright © 2024 Shonda Creemer