The Meaning

The meaning,
The being, place and life.
All for something and all of me.

The place of meaning, life and living.
Placed in a world of being, of staying.

My meaning and place. My comfort and solace.

My place being and moment.

The place I feel at home.
The place to escape my torture.

My place, accepting, my being and place.

My world and my being,
To my shaping.
To my creation.

Shaped into comfort and satisfaction.

My meaning,
My world made whole,
My creation of the meaning,
Not there to begin with.

Path Drifting From View

The path drifting from view,

Receding into the distance.
Tears welling up,
The memories, people, events and times.

All gone,
All in the past,
Left without a foothold,

No path forward or back,
Merely falling, drifting,
And navigating some form of landing.

Manipulating a descent,
One with other people, events, memories to be made.

The branching of many opportunities,
The uncertainty that comes with living,
The uncertainty of being, of existence.

All that is known,
Receding from view,
Leaving an emptiness,
A surviving,
The moving on with the days ahead.

Like eating without taste,
Happiness without feeling,
Thinking when never knowing.

As the path recedes from view, on I go,

To forge another. To burn the bad bridges behind me. To enshrine the golden monuments that have built me, kept me and protected me.

Numbing The Pain

Numbing the pain,

Feeling empty,

Dark and cold, all around, to the touch.

Mindless monster, dead being.

Trudging on, unfeeling, numb.

A wreck of the past.

A wound on the world.

A chasm of despair.

The state of being, pain at losing life’s treasures held close.

Ripped from the arms,

Followed by the dark storm, the empty silence and coldness.

Piercing and digging like razors, sharp tendrils into by abdomen. Into my heart and core.

But…

But.

I feel nothing, numbness to pain that comes from its constancy.

Numbing my pain.

Bringing it in. Bringing it close.

Fully reckoning it.

Feeling it.

Until that is all I am.

A numbed pain. Constant. A broken thing. A wound of existence. A storm of calm rage. Outside Alice, while dead inside.

Black Pearl Of Night

The darkness smooth of night,

Patterns in the dark sky,

The silent night.

The emptiness and the dark.

The smoothness formed from irritation.

The blackness imparted on the rest of the world.

A different form from the day,

Small lights peppered across the landscape.

A dark silence echoed,

A world untouched by light.

The dark rolling hills,

The echoes of human steps taken in the human day.

Echoes of people unknown,

Activities of humans once passed.

Left empty and barren,

The dark wastelands.

The ice cold wind.

The scars left from day,

A counterpoint from the silent empty night.

The lonesome night.

The silent dark night..

The echoes left from day.

To the black pearl of night.

The silence.

The emptiness of space,

The solo existence in this emptiness of night.

Alone in the dark,

The only person in existence.

The solitude of my thoughts.

Left to the darkness,

This black pearl of night.

Empty, alone, silent, and solo.

The dark shadow cast upon,

The rest of the world, dark and empty,

Eternal. Empty. A mere echo.

A black pearl,

In its dark beauty.

Its dark radiant shine.

The dark storm encircling inside.

Black and dark like the inside of my mind,

Silent and in solitude, like the confines of my mind.

A barren blackness, a counterpart to life.

This black pearl I’ve found.

The silence I live.

Mine to hold,

Before the black sky.

This black pearl I’ve found.

Left forgotten.

This black pearl I’ve found.

The black pearl of my life.

Broken Echoes

Broken echoes,

Of my past,

The mistakes made and continued.

Trusting those who leave me down.

Those I once thought to trust,

Who continue to forget me,

As people do.

Left, as a broken echo to the world.

Drowning out reality.

Drowning out the song of life, as a broken echo.

A ghost of the now,

Cut off off from the world.

Cut out of existence.

Left with this reminder. The broken echo that follows.

The empty words given,

And retracted from me with a sharp pain.

The deceiving smile, of a friend held dear.

Left with this broken echo.

A dear reminder,

Of the pain following trust,

The hurt following friendship.

The lies given without care,

Left in this broken echo.

The repeating sound,

Through the repeated lies.

The broken echo as my reminder.

The times enthusiastically waiting for,

Not given a simple truth. To solidify the pain,

Yet left with the repeating echo.

To grasp me,

Encapsulate me.

Bring me peace.

Not wanting to bring pain or inconvenience.

But being left waiting.

In this broken echo.

My fault for trusting in a friend,

Caring, yet wondering.

Through this broken echo.

Me, a broken echo.

A path once taken,

Me. The ongoing problem.

Me. The broken echo.

Better left forgotten.

Grasping For The Light

Grasping for the light,

Left thinking,

Of what has come to pass,

What’s left in memory.

The times gone by,

Memories held,

Times elusive,

Left to memory, to past feeling.

Remembering dearly.

Going on.

Trying to grasp the light.

Looking to what’s next.

Remembering the past,

The feelings, memories and past.

Gone, but remembered.

Grasping for the warmth of light,

Memories gone by,

Lived yet missed,

Loved, yet also lost,

To time and to my past.

Grasping at the light.

Past Feeling

Those past feelings,

The times once had.

Remembering and reliving.

Wondering in this present state.

Not unhappy,

Remembering in ecstasy,

But remembering…

It’s left to the past.

Those past feelings.

Replaced by the present remembering.

Good memories,

Left to past feelings.

The times,

Hectic but great.

Lived fully, and left to memory.

A small but great time.

Of past feeling.

Left.

Confined to history,

To remembering,

The past feeling.

Lessons from the Past

Lessons from the past,

The intricate path taken,

My intricate path walked,

The twists and turns,

The path walked, the path lived.

The path I take for my own.

The way I move,

The way I am.

The mistakes once made,

The faults of my past and my mind.

The path I forge towards my future.

Bright and determined,

Persevering to achieve what I need, what I am.

Forging my path ahead,

Through what I must,

Through what I am.

To what I can be, what I can do:

What I can achieve.

My determination pronounced.

The path I must take.

The way I walk with determination into the coming future.

Confining my mistakes to the past.

Mistakes made and a future to be found.

To be made.

To overcome my limitations.

To learn from these lessons from my past, from within.

To forge my future, my path.

Through those lessons from within.

Those lessons from my past.

Screaming At Your Own Confines

My screams at my own confines.

The walls closing in,

The pain drowning out.

No one to help,

No where to go.

Alone in the confines of my self.

Left confused and looking,

In desperation for a solution.

In desperation for help.

Looking and tearing apart my mind and thoughts.

Looking for a way out, a solution.

An escape.

Some help.

A friend to talk to, in my depths of loneliness.

Even as no one can help,

No one can understand.

What is raging in my mind:

The worry and uncertainty.

The longed for solution,

To my panicked fright,

The looming unknown.

The raging desperation,

Dripping from my mind.

Sapping me dry.

Exhausting my being.

Screaming at the confines with no escape.

Screaming at the being that confines me.

The reality that drains me.

The hurt that kills me,

The world that tears me.

The confines from within my mind,

No help to be found, no solace.

No place to find a solution.

No place to find my escape.

The uncertainty drawing on my mind.

Ripping apart my thoughts,

Focussing my pain.

Sharpening my worry.

Keeping me to the confines,

The chains I try to break.

The walls I try to shout down.

Left screaming at my own confines that keep me, the worries that pains me.