That silent peace,
The times gone cold,
The waiting for warmth,
Peaceful, yet empty.
Empty yet alone.
Waiting yet unsure.
In a state of limbo,
Sitting in silence wanting meaning.
Looking for an escape.
Having an aim.
All in the balance,
Waiting to be.
Here I am, waiting, in silent peace of what may be.
Waiting to be.
Continuing on as I mean to be.
Waiting in this silent peace.
For what I want to be.
I know the way,
I know what I must,
The path is closed off from me,
Left in silent peace.
The lies they tell,
Those supposed friends,
Who shackle you to the knife,
Who throw you down, into the lies,
The bed of knives and suffering.
In your name, to spare you pain.
While exacerbating the problem to titanic proponents.
The lies they tell to misguide, trick, hurt, misdirect.
True friends are such. To cause pain.
A horrible truth, better than many amazing lies.
One is living the truth, the other a mirage that needs shedding.
The lies your ‘friends’ tell,
The pain they unknowingly cause,
Even when asked to spare me.
They hold the knife to my throat.
With the lies they tell.
A reminder of me,
Who I used to be,
Free eternal, unbound and unchained.
Free-thinking, a spirit in good health.
Loving life for the friends who’ve touched me,
Those who unknowingly saved me.
To those I would do the same.
To save, to walk the ends of the earth for,
Those kind few, who reminded me of me,
Me of who I was,
Me of the worth of living.
The escape from a horrid past,
The needless pain,
To those who confirmed,
Those who supported.
I hold you dear.
Dear to my soul.
Dear to my being.
Those who reminded me of who I am and who I need to be, should be, will be.