Baptized in dark waters of pain I arise reborn to reclaim my name. I have tasted the sting of bitter cold; I have walked through the hottest flames. Indifference and numbness renders me somewhat listless. They scold me with harsh words and haughty admonishments. From their defiled pulpits they scream mispronounced words they don’t understand in improper contexts. I look down upon them from above the clouds and I laugh; they swear at me and throw obstacles in my path. I transcend their petty attempts, for they know not of pain and the strength from tribulation that is gained. They know not of sleepless nights and the weary eyes that weep under the blackness of dark rain. I look through their windows and see the sickness and cirrhosis of their souls. Their rapid aging from the years of wickedness and perpetual lying, causes blackness and hardening of the nails and the brittleness of bones. I sit and contemplate my thoughts as a righteous king on his throne. To think they could lie in wait to wound me would show the stupidity of their audacity. They thought they would take advantage of my anxiety, but in their futility they couldn’t find me. I transcend; I transcend then begin again. Submerged in dark waters of agony and writhing pain I arise with fire in my eyes to conquer and reclaim. My enemies must vacate the throne upon which the sword and scepter bear my name.
Tag: Anxiety
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The malabsorption of fear renders the intestines nauseous and liquefied with sickness. It must not be ingested and given a chance to spread and metastasize; it must be wholly spit out and rejected. If swallowed, it must be immediately purged from the stomach, heaved out with extreme prejudice and burned in blue fire. But when the table is set, will we eat of the portions of fear, lies, illusions, and fast made conclusions, or will we reject the poisonous banquet?
The sweet fruit of clarity and the now reality longs to be eaten, broken down, and used as nourishment for the system.
The caustic ulcers of contagion bleed, heal and bleed again, in the interim.
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Our forewords are inscribed in blood. Chapters of anguish are effortlessly written. Pens of fire highlight the darkness that can’t be seen by the naked eye. Our records of torment and suffering and pain are intricately layered as the pages are turned. Footnotes take hold of the reader and guide with harrowing precision. See where we walked in laborious breaths clutching tight our heavy crosses; hear the incessant wailing of those who hope for more and want to live, but for so long have only existed but yet endure. Witness the pungent scent of hopelessness, despair, and misery. Read with focused intent, not fast; feel the texture of the paper and turn the pages slowly. With every letter and with every word step into rugged boots and hard worn shoes; take the journey. Stretch your arms North, for Polaris is still the star of our or salvation; we are sufferers in blood and in bonds, we send heaven our voice letters and ask for the angels to break our fetters. Some pages may be blank but tears that fall on paper narrate the chapter. The downtrodden, the anguished, the mute, the outcast and long languished are given voice through the pages to record and tell of their devastation and long sadness; diligently search the index and reread certain passages to gain more insight and to interpret the book in its fullness. Run your hands over the leather binding and admire the gold leaf engraving but be mindful to retain poignant paragraphs that are well worth retaining. We cry out between the lines. Our final chapters are yet to be written.
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Between life and death
Between labored breaths
Between purgatory and hell
Between the haunting rings of the final bell
Between heaven and the abyss
Between agony and bliss
Between the fog and a dark mist
They are there, unseen,
But they do exist. -
Though I see, darkness clouds my sight,
And though I speak, I am mute with listlessness.
The deafness of desolation is torturous silence;
I have swallowed the bitter taste of violence.
I reach for her loving touch but she is not here;
The scent of her essence lingers in the air.
The numbness of indifference alleviates my fears.
I search for light,
But embrace the darkness to alleviate my tears. -
Slowly and methodically it takes from me.
Irrationality and fallacy becomes disconsolate reality.
Peace of mind and tranquility is my constant plea.
It thrives on anxiety and gradually leads to instability;It takes from me.
In dark desolation I cannot see.
Dragging my cross I am thirsty and weary.
The seasons go by and I am devastated utterly.
In cold loneliness my existence is dreary;It takes from me.
I had a dream of deep valleys and peaceful streams,
But it was consumed by trepidation and anguished screams;
Exhausted and in blight, on worn down bricks I lean.
Looking on they shun me; my pain is their hilarity;
With rotten teeth and foul breath they point and laugh at me.
I curse them under my breath in anger and with vile profanity;Still it takes from me.
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With tightening of the chest
And the restriction of breaths
It is cruel in its dogged pursuit. -
In the final act, illness is unveiled in its true ugliness, raw hideousness, and utter mercilessness; when blood flows from open veins and the eyes from behind which it lies, are bloodshot and teary from torment and unceasing cries.
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Awakened and the nightmare begins
Daily life must be lived
But the anguished have nothing left to give
Unwanted thoughts torment the anxious
Irrationality becomes their reality
Depression consumes in totality
The body is willing but the mind is perpetually spinning
Eyes well up with tears for seemingly no reason
To the world the pain is hard to explain
In dark rain the distressed can be heard fervently praying
If you listen closely to their whispers you can hear them saying:
Dear God, I wish I had another brain
I can’t live another day with dark clouds over me, and cold rain
What did I do to deserve this pain?
Let me live again and free me from these chains. -
Afflicted and anguished voices cry out in darkness
Tears and ceaseless sorrow are the torment of illness
The tired and exhausted desire peace and stillness
It is unrelenting with unforgiving torment and viciousness
In its approach it is particularly ruthless and merciless
Still they fight passionately and defiantly until their last breath.
Intimate Compositions 