Written 4/12/23 10:53pm at 1:08am
No longer able to cradle the pain tucked,
It's not okay.
So far from the shoreline, never to reach the rocky bay.
Through the tumultuous storm,
She felt her life draining away,
Pouring out of her like blood water in the [bullet] rain.
It's an absolute sham[e]!
All she is.
All she was...
Lord willing, all she will and/or
May become, is as complex as it is
An oversimplification of
An amateur guitarist's
Harmonic strum [structure].
A bit less predictable than many others,
Supposing the rhapsodic drum
Of our undefined heartbeats.
As we walk down these deadly streets,
An uncomfortable familiarity to see.
We cautiously march unlike soldiers to match
Life's inner rhythmic beat of the subconscious.
Moreso as witnesses than warriors.
Maybe couriers?
Transporting information through time,
The chosen are sublime
Yet no one ever knows why.
The mentally spry come close but are
Overdosed with knowledge...
The type of wisdom that drives one mad.
It's a sad path to run
Sprinting upon it versus walking
Because chalking and marking the way would
Take too long but a soul's true song
Lasts more than a lifetime.
She dreamed of severing the immortal tether, once and for all.
Whether empty or full, it's a tall glass.
Does one create or shed a mask for this impossible task?
Why? Do you ask?
Well the speculation may be crass like crashing glass or
A brass or even woodwind instrument when it's played offkey.
Even if practicing, it sounds like detriment,
Death candle scents with accents of hope still.
"They" hope we fall ill and the mind mill wheels
Stop churning,
Because that'll lead to the burning of the meaning,
Which conceals the truth of dreaming.
No! Screaming wouldn't even help in this case.
So she re-erased and failed in every attempt to try again.
She's definitely due a win.
She'd often utter how unfair the circumstances were.
Hysterically stutter through stinging tears of
Anguish, ultimate betrayal, & damage of the heart.
Acknowledging this was a start.
But what now?!
Of course, that's always the thought,
Whether first or last.
The remaining heat from the cosmic stardust
Didn't rust.
It magically animates the husks of
Compounded molecular atoms.
Au gratus semper fi.
It's a pseudo-stratum theory.
A belief in the theory of believers who be.
Externally her,
To forever return again.
Gracing every planetary surface and existing being
With her unknown divine presence.
A start to a close yet
Also somehow, an ending to begin!
YOU ARE READING
Survivor's Remorse
PoetrySurvivor's Remorse is a personal collection of poetry, songs, lyrics, prose, and more that ranges from the early 2000s through 2023 when I finally decided to start a new poetry book! Thank you immensely to anyone who has taken time to read this book...
