The Lonely Silence Of The Dark

Lonely silence of the dark,
The dark days gone past,
Those yet to come,

Waiting for those light days, the ones to look forward to.
To hope for,
To live for.

When the darkness of the night is all around,
With silence as the figure lurking in the dark.
The depths of night.
An impenetrable shroud;
Thick, dark, all-consuming.
Suffocating at a touch.

The feeling of life,
The memories returning,
But only for a time.
The deep sadness,
To accompany the lonely silence of the dark.

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Left Alone

Left alone,

That’s how it goes,

First to start,

Last to stop.

Left alone and predicted this,

That’s the way it goes.

The inevitable end.

The continuous path,

Expected and to be expected.

Left down, like a person with nothing left.

And loving it.

The rage and realisation.

The life and the longing.

The buildup and expectations.

The waiting and expectation.

Going on alone, as I know I must go.

The ongoing movement through time.

This onward treading.

The way it goes, and the way it must.

Ready for the shit that comes, as it always will.

No me gusta.

But that is life, the one I live.

The one I’ve been given.

The one I have and have to make.

The way I live, the way I go.

The good turning chaotic,

The way going blank.

The path turning off.

The way fading to black.

Living in the darkness and making it my own.

Owning the life that I lead.

Holding on tight to the war inside my mind.

Facing my firing squad.

Smiling in the face of it all,

In the face of the darkness and the pain.

Spitting in the face of death and darkness.

Making it mine,

Commanding it to my will and presence.

My will, it will become mine.

The path I must take,

Alone and smile.

The lonely road I walk.

To spit in the face of it all.

To face my fate,

To face my demons.

Spit in the face of it all.

The sinner of the world,

Of the darkness and the pain.

The path I walk.

The way I move.

The way I drift back and forth,

Drift off into the darkness,

Into my life eternal,

The eternal pain, ongoing and suffering.

To walk on and out,

Off into darkness.

On and off I go,

Moving on into the night.

Into the life that awaits.

This darkness I delve into,

Fight,

Rage,

Win.

Taking the pain,

Making it my own,

Making it mine.

Holding on in and through the rage.

Loving it with life as my witness.

Cutting the chord.

Stringing myself up in this life.

Loving ever second.

This rage and love,

Happiness and courage.

Weakness and strength.

Left alone, waking to my destination. The noose of the depths of the ocean.

And on I continue, left alone to my inevitable path.

The Lies They Tell

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.

Reminder Of Me

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,

Who backed,

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.

Trickery From Within Trust

The friends who lie,

Deceive and mislead.

No matter what is said, a lie for one to be fooled.

All a lie from one to another.

The hurt caused,

Misleading someone,

Moving them along a path not their own.

Owned by the lie.

A trickery from within the comfort of trust.

Trickery from a person of trust,

A kind friend, was kind, was caring.

Now just a horrid trickster,

Hurting and hurting,

A happier lie, does it make bliss?…

No, a happy lie caused temporary alleviation,

Only to follow a deeper darkness.

Dark in its substance,

Dark in its reaction,

Dark to the loss of trust,

Dark to the once-friend turned trickster.

Left without one to trust, as the trickster tore you apart.

Left without trust as you were hurt.

By those you trusted.

Those who said they were there.

All a lie,

From within the trust the trickster sheds their false facade.

Leaving nothing but broken destruction in its wake,

A broken situation,

Broken mind and hurt living.

With no one left to turn to.

Wanting to cut all off.

To save myself the pain.

Of trusting the trickster,

To prevent the trickery from within the trust.

Thank You From My Soul

Thank you from my soul,

Thank you for being there,

Holding me steady when I’ve lost my way,

Listening when I need to talk,

Talking when I need help,

Opening my eyes, even when blind.

Thank you from my soul.

For the pains I have felt.

Are undiminished,

Yet you tried anyway.

Thank you from my soul.

Thank you for those good times,

The smiles even when down-convincing me even for a second that I wasn’t.

Thank you from my soul.

For the distraction,

For sharing your feelings,

Your plights,

Allowing me to help you.

That helped me.

Thank you from my soul.

The incoherent shambles of my mind.

You bothered to give a chance, to lend a hand, to listen, advise, and most importantly to understand.

Thank you from my soul.

You have done so much for me.

More than I can comprehend,

More than I can know,

More than I want to admit.

More than words can describe.

But I can say but one thing.

Thank you from my soul.
Writing this after a good day at work, talked, joked and socialised with many friends at work and felt good, for small increments of time. A friend dropped me off home and checked on me to see if I was okay.

I lied and said All was fine, I am feeling better than before, but only kind of. Is feeling nothing worse than feeling bad? The dilemma I am thinking through.

Don’t want to trouble them anymore, nor want to make the mistake of trusting people, or being a burden. I know how people saw me before, the hopeless guy who was always down.

Can’t blame them, they try to help and in the end it stays the same. Although it does help, it still continues, can’t blame them for giving up. Can’t blame them for not wanting to be around someone who’s always down and bringing them down. I don’t want that.

Lies We Tell Ourselves

The lies we tell ourselves,

To hide, bury, avoid the pain.

Anything to find an escape.

Anything to escape the isolation, even when surrounded by people.

The lies we tell ourselves

To make another day happy knowing it’s just the lie we say,

The web we spin,

The make-believe to avoid the truth.

These are the bittersweet lies we tell ourselves.

Used to the Pain

Used to the pain,

Used to the lies

Used to the false facade of kindness offered by ‘friends’ hidden behind contempt and dislike.

I try not to accept the fact that those closest hate me, avoid me.

The hurt, drowned out by apathy.

A false apathy you convince yourself you possess.

But know you don’t.

How to move on from this?

When those you care about leave you. Use you only to throw you away like a item that’s lost its usefulness.

Why lie? Tell me the truth.

I will accept it.

Don’t have to hide it from me.

I’m used to the pain.

Used to this pain.

Used to my pain.

The Human Condition

The human condition.

To say one thing, but to mean another

To lie and cheat,

To pain others while giving a facade of kindness.

To hug in one moment but to rip apart in the next.

The human condition of lies, deceit, to hurt and to kill.

Humans offer pain, no solace.

Mere lies, offered to hide the darkness inside.

Why do they do this? To cause such pain.

Not knowing their actions,

The true repercussions.

To distance themselves from the pains and problems they orchestrate.

This is the human condition.