I am a child of the night
Hear my growls of hunger
See the pain that I suffer
Witness the eyes that have
Seen what can never be unseen
Hear my cries
Look into my soul and see
The dark secrets that
I withhold from my mother
See my tears and the hurt
That I daily suffer
Witness the pain inflicted
By a real life monster
Who causes great harm
And nights of insomnia
Record my dreams of
being a bird in flight
And escaping the torture
See the scars on my mind
And on my soul
Witness the physical and mental
Trauma that takes a double toll
See the land of peace
That my mind has devised
Where there is no more pain
Only love and clear blue skies
Hear the screams that awaken
Me at night
The bad dreams, the fear, the fright
See my Christmas list to Santa for toys,
And for the suffering to go away
To be accepted by my peers at school
who tell me I’m not wanted,
And exclude me from their play
See my poverty and the laughter in class
From boys and girls of a different class
Feel my anger and feel my pain
Feel my sadness walking home in the rain
See my ideations of not wanting
To be here anymore
Looking at cars go by
Wishing I wasn’t poor
See the feelings of pain
And revenge that I hide
That I’ve never told, and eat me up inside
This cold cold world is no place for a child
I’m sorry I have to go; the street lights are on
Mom says I have to come inside.
Tag: Anxiety
-
-
What is life that we should live it?
What is suffering that we should bear it?
The crow walks along on a long wire
And stares at me as if acknowledging my pain;
The heavens open and release a frightful,
And thunderous rain—
My god, what a glorious wonder;
On sentimental midnight talks of love
Hearts are torn asunder—
Am I not worthy?
Am I not a man who has sought peace
On mornings early?
The frightful thoughts invade and subdue—
In my hour of panic I see intimate visions of you;
You were my world and my only love—
Pure and incorruptible;
You brought from within me a lost smile,
And took away all my troubles—
The harshness of life cares not about
The matters of love and of the heart;
I am lost in desolation and utter dryness—
I am a man in need of water, whispering
Strange utterances and stumbling aimlessly
In the wilderness.
Who will hear my cry?
In our moments of turmoil on somber nights
My love, you would cry;
My angel, let us together release our hurt and pain.
For your hurt is my hurt, and your sorrow my sorrow.
I dreamed of you in rows of
Lavender, fuchsia, purple, yellow and blue.
I had seen you my angel coming from the heavens
To resurrect me from the death of melancholy,
And lonely despair;
Your gleaming white wings spread and comforted me.
In your warmth I was wrapped up—
The potency of your love healed me;
Your smile and laughter brought me back to life;
The indescribable feelings that I feel
Rise up within my spirit tonight—
If you only knew my heart still belonged to you;
If you could only see my desires deep within …
I love you;
I long for you. -
As the small
Yellow pills wear off
Thus begins his
Descent into hell. -
Dark stillness abounds but still restful sleep seems to evade.
Tears run on soft pillows; the agony of the dark early morning
inflicts even more anxiety than the night before. Light is sought
but dark curtains are drawn to shield the eyes from the pain of
slow adjustment. Weary eyes have become accustomed to
the darkness. The years of praying no longer suffice. An existence
is what is left … he wants to live again … he wants to touch the sky.The darkness plagues unmercifully and darkens dreams.
The suffering increases slowly year after year. The seasons come
and go, and he has forgotten his age. Turmoil is made manifest
in the frailty of his body. He remembers the comfort of his mother,
and yearns for her presence; to comfort himself he whispers
her favorite hymns. He’s become a vampire that wants embrace
the light again, but will the light accept him or confine him to
eternal darkness? He takes a shower to start the day. -
See me now.
See me in my wretchedness;
See me in my pain.
See the eyes that have seen struggle,
And the nights of dark rain.
See me in my anxiety;
See me in my tears;
See the toll of heavy burdens
I have carried over the years.
See the life that is within me;
See the deep hurt that I carry daily.
See me in tattered clothes on the street
Begging passersby for money.
See me in abject poverty;
See my illness that is invisible to many.
See me sleeping on church steps in the winter;
See me wishing for peace and eternal slumber.
See my hopes and see my dreams;
See me in linen white
Resurrected in light by a peaceful stream. -
Silence lies;
Then comes weeping and wailing
The incessant cries.
Terrified eyes shed tears
looking down upon wide open eyes.Tears drop onto, and stream down the face of the lifeless
as if the lifeless cries in a state of perfect stillness.The screams and wails of the left behind
scorch the morbid silence.
Onlookers fill the room.
Some mumble incoherently
as if they’re in some nightmarish daze.Suddenly the mortality of man
Is counted and measured in dreadful wonder.
Minds start to think of the darkness,
And search for immediate refuge.
The light, oh that beautiful light.The wails become distant
As the room empties.
The crying fades.
Only mute pictures in frames are left to witness.
Again, Silence lies. -
The darkness scares
The darkness frights
He must learn to embrace the darkness,
And drown it in light. -
Because she wept in heavy rain they could never see her tears.
With nothing left to give she empties her deep wells of pain onto the street.
People unaware walk through the puddles of her sorrow. -
In anxious agony and incoherent words of an exhausted mind
In a state of isolation and loneliness that viciously consumes the spirit
On nights red eyes stare into mirrors with tears for lack of sleep
In unkempt rooms where chaos seemingly abounds and several
empty prescription bottles are strewn
In rooms where for many years illness and fear have festered,
and have consumed, and have metastasized.The walls have witnessed and concealed the deep secrets
They weep in silence for the trepidation of the sorrowful dweller.
After the screaming and torment, in a cluttered bed the afflicted briefly sleeps;Eyes on the wall in picture frames curiously stare.
-
As I play the keys of my life, blood and tears drip on the piano. The notes on the music sheet become more intricate. I furiously and wildly continue to play trying to keep up. There is no audience or applause. The stage lights have been turned off. I play in darkness and can barely see the music sheet but for a dim light peering through the dark and heavy curtains. The sounds of the Steinway keys echo throughout the vast and empty auditorium.
At intermission I stare at empty seats.
Intimate Compositions 