Saturday, January 25, 2014
I don't really know if what I write makes sense or if it's even any good. All I know is writing is a cathartic experience and putting words to paper soothes the soul. So I write and try not to worry about the rest. I write for me and share for you. Today, good or bad, this is what came out.
All the hurt in the world
Rests heavily on a broken heart
The sunset of a life
Breaks the bright days apart
And I, alone on this side of the abyss
Reach for you through the never ending dark
All the tears welling in my eyes
Spill forth like tiny silent threats
Washing away guilty houses
Built of sorrow, shame and regrets
And I, behind shuttered blinds
Pray for forgiveness and resets
All the pain in the world makes
An ocean of misunderstanding and indifference
Where the pieces of a life float away
In a raft made of dreams and innocence
And I, sitting in your old rocking chair
Hope there will be a time for mending fences
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
I am starting to realize I like to write some dark shit. Found this little guy in the pocket of one of the folders I am using to store research for my novel. I wrote it some time within the past few months. Not sure when. Anyway...here it is.
When Darkness Calls
Dead eyes stare across deserted barren wastelands.
Scorched canvases splattered with dark red paint.
Bodies writhe and slither on desecrated ground.
Blackened branches clench aching muscles tight.
Thorns scratch and tear at tender unmarked flesh.
Blood beads and flows over paper white skin.
Thick heartbeats echo through broken empty spaces.
Cold hard steel replaces supple skin and bones.
Pull and push silent screams of pain.
Battlefields of death and blood remain.
Wars fought and lost.
When darkness calls.