2009-11-27, 12:01 AM
(This post was last modified: 2009-11-29, 03:46 AM by TøbiasBlack.)
~When no roads lead to home
~Heroes and Heroin (this is uncomplete, and instead of trying to fix it up while posting it here, ill be posting whats written in my notebook. same for the next few)
Spoiler
The darkened road, leaves strewn about, blown across the rocky path by the cold winds of autumn, and all I can see is myself.
The owls overhead cry out, serenading to the bathing moonlight that pierces the cloudy night sky, nesting in their trees overhead and watching the world beneath them.
Greater forces, fear and anxiety, bite and tear away, breaking apart the frail and fragile spirit I hold in my heart.
Down this path I have chosen to walk, away from the spoiled rots of human greed, suffrage and dismay, bearing the memories of past joys and happiness on my back.
Looking ahead I can see nothing but my own feet, slowly walking forward, unendingly walking forward, despite the strain of time and fatigue.
Many nights has it been sine I have been able to muster the courage to look behind me, to seek help and aid from the ones I've abandoned and tossed aside.
Many nights have been spent cowering underneath the canopies of the oak and spruce trees, seeking shelter from the world outside underneath their massive out-hanging branches and leaves.
Come again, tears roll down my cheeks, come once more a bitter and paralyzing sorrow, the dim pale lights of streetlamps overhead casting a terrifying glow upon the most simple of objects.
Deep down, underneath the prisoned heart, beats the memories of the nobody I am, deeper down he cries out in pain.
His joy stands bereft and his anguish unrequited, put away from the glaring eyes of those around him to hide his true self.
Locked away, safely in his hell, yearning to break free.
Locked away, the potential to be more than a pariah.
More than a simple boy with simple dreams, more than just another face in the crowd.
Bearing the crown of a fallen king, wearing the robes of a simple peasant.
This inner boy is screaming out in agony, his pleas for salvation falling upon deaf ears.
A poor mute both he and I have become, as my journey continues agonizingly forward.
Even now, looking down, I can see my feet, blistered and bloody, broken toes and a battered sole.
No path I ever take I ever intend to lead me to anywhere.
Each avenue and each walkway just an escape from the world I'd sooner want to abandon and forget.
From time to time, people see me, my straggling and tattered mess of an appearance, and some kind, pious souls have reached out to give me a helping hand.
However, my own ineptitude and lack of self appreciation are what makes me stray, what makes me walk away from them.
Their heads turn and they walk away, content to have only offered me aid.
No one stays.
Not a single path I have ever walked down, not a single road that my feet have tread their bloody prints on has ever lead me to a final destination.
No roads of mine lead me to home, and none ever shall.
This, the fate of a wanderer, have I adopted to cower away from the world outside.
The owls overhead cry out, serenading to the bathing moonlight that pierces the cloudy night sky, nesting in their trees overhead and watching the world beneath them.
Greater forces, fear and anxiety, bite and tear away, breaking apart the frail and fragile spirit I hold in my heart.
Down this path I have chosen to walk, away from the spoiled rots of human greed, suffrage and dismay, bearing the memories of past joys and happiness on my back.
Looking ahead I can see nothing but my own feet, slowly walking forward, unendingly walking forward, despite the strain of time and fatigue.
Many nights has it been sine I have been able to muster the courage to look behind me, to seek help and aid from the ones I've abandoned and tossed aside.
Many nights have been spent cowering underneath the canopies of the oak and spruce trees, seeking shelter from the world outside underneath their massive out-hanging branches and leaves.
Come again, tears roll down my cheeks, come once more a bitter and paralyzing sorrow, the dim pale lights of streetlamps overhead casting a terrifying glow upon the most simple of objects.
Deep down, underneath the prisoned heart, beats the memories of the nobody I am, deeper down he cries out in pain.
His joy stands bereft and his anguish unrequited, put away from the glaring eyes of those around him to hide his true self.
Locked away, safely in his hell, yearning to break free.
Locked away, the potential to be more than a pariah.
More than a simple boy with simple dreams, more than just another face in the crowd.
Bearing the crown of a fallen king, wearing the robes of a simple peasant.
This inner boy is screaming out in agony, his pleas for salvation falling upon deaf ears.
A poor mute both he and I have become, as my journey continues agonizingly forward.
Even now, looking down, I can see my feet, blistered and bloody, broken toes and a battered sole.
No path I ever take I ever intend to lead me to anywhere.
Each avenue and each walkway just an escape from the world I'd sooner want to abandon and forget.
From time to time, people see me, my straggling and tattered mess of an appearance, and some kind, pious souls have reached out to give me a helping hand.
However, my own ineptitude and lack of self appreciation are what makes me stray, what makes me walk away from them.
Their heads turn and they walk away, content to have only offered me aid.
No one stays.
Not a single path I have ever walked down, not a single road that my feet have tread their bloody prints on has ever lead me to a final destination.
No roads of mine lead me to home, and none ever shall.
This, the fate of a wanderer, have I adopted to cower away from the world outside.
~Heroes and Heroin (this is uncomplete, and instead of trying to fix it up while posting it here, ill be posting whats written in my notebook. same for the next few)
Spoiler
Shakles and chains hold back the crying little girl. Her heart, the fragile little thing it is, has become cracked and broken by the forces of above. Disgraced and ashamed, belittled and neglected, her body quivers once again. Thunder and magma break out and attack her weary soul; a defiled virgin girl. Her linen sheets reek of sin, and her body is bruised and sore. Nights are spent alone, crying in bed, fear grips her. The stomps of angry boots, the thu of the slammed door, another night spent shutting out the world and being driven into a wall. The pain goes on, night after night, her anguish and suffering knows not any peace. No wordcs rise from her to liberate her from these bonds. No one to save her from this prison, no one to hear her pleas.
Time passes, years go by, the pain of her heart follows her like a shadow, lurking in the cold depths of her mind. She has grown distant from the world, the fear of others hurting her a constant foe. Shut away and locked inside, her feelings are held at bay....
Time passes, years go by, the pain of her heart follows her like a shadow, lurking in the cold depths of her mind. She has grown distant from the world, the fear of others hurting her a constant foe. Shut away and locked inside, her feelings are held at bay....
Spoiler
this is where ive left off, and eventually will revisit it. ive got ideas to finish and revise it, but so far its incomplete.