When Trying Stops Fighting

That trying, stops.
Fighting ceases,
When the lies get too much.
Disillusion of the world.

Trying to push on.
Being thrown to the ground.
As the violin plays to close,
The song fades.

The world so well but empty,
Through those empty lies,
Empty times.

All those tries,
Always to the fade.
For all those times.

The world in all its worth,
Left unto empty words,
Those empty lies.

When trying to fight the fade,
The trying,
Then losing its fight.
When the lies can’t fight the truth,
To its all-fading.

Losing a sense of self,
A, part of your self.
Where the rage,
The fight tires out.

And the trying tires of the fight.


Been a good, busy and productive day. Yet some things, some things, and then the thinking, leaving it all empty.

Listening to my favourite song on repeat, that has meant the world to me for so long and have recently rediscovered; 21 Guns by Green Day.

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Delusion

The delusion, the path to take.

What words to say? If to say?

What I think and feel.

Is this a delusion?

Within my mind or without?

The question plaguing my mind.

The questions out loud,

Implicit thoughts unresolved.

Unable to say the feeling,

Left within a void,

Left outside my being.

My mind a prison,

Confines and limited.

The mind blocked from the feeling,

The understanding.

Unable to forge a new path.

With tools lacking