The Final Strand

Reminiscing of the pain and sorrow I 
find,
While conveying their meanings upon the written line.
But this paper is tired of recording my teachings 
Realizing there's no audience these words are reaching.
So I write and scribble and erase for results
But the paper refuses to record.
What a fucking insult.  

Lost in the depths of a dark heart
Keeping a mental picture of my soul ripped apart.
Haunted by the beloved fallen who's calling
Out to me every night,
Trying to lure me in so I have to put up a fight.
Tears dripping so subtly from my eyes
hearing their cries and watching them
die over and over again.
Holding out their hand for me to join the dark and go with them.
Which I admit with shame I have considered,
I wont pretend.

Swimming through surprised that I'm not heartless
But regardless,
How do I explain this darkness?
Empty inside, aged more than most,
Probably sore, beating harder in this world exposed.
I look around and see the strings of my heart 
Gathered on the floor,
long since cut.
But one string still remains holding on
Doing its job and staying strong
so I go and whisper,
"thats more than enough."
With that it falls in my hands as its far from gone.
Rest in peace to the last string that had me breathing,
Get some rest for yourself,
No more beating.

Rest in piece young soldier
Get some rest for yourself,
No more beating,
Its over...

Through these holes in my heart,
I see an empty shell. 
No soul inside of me,
What's left is a living hell.
I walk down these halls of my past youth,
I see all of the scars that have passed through.
Like the ones from punching a window out of anger
Or the time that I fought with a stranger.
Though the thing to me that I find the strangest,
Is the missing scars from the knife
Spelled out -Shameless-

To my surprise I witness a corridor 
Upon the like I haven't seen before.
Staring, two paths faced in my direction,
Each a clear message shown in their reflection.

To my left I see my enemies, declaring victory from my passing. Never having to see me.
And to my right, all the people that I help keep lasting. Taking away their misery. 
Its enough to drive me into a restless state,
Contemplating, on which path to take.
The one with an early death, yet my enemies win?
Or the one with stress, but I have a hand to lend?


For now I'll just keep a pen in my hand
Writing on these hollow walls to figure where I'll land

Staying locked away in this limbo of truth
As I watch the world 
Then finally choose. 

[ Michael Z ]

Tags: Sad, Rhyme, Depressing, Confused, Pain, Hope, Dark, Imagery, Abstract, Weird, Deep,