Souls roam restlessly with no peace;
These are the souls of the broken hearted
And unloved now deceased
On earth’s realm they suffered in silent despair
Without a moment of love or an inkling of care
Abused and mistreated for most of their lives
These souls that roam, please hear their cries
In decades of sorrow and years of pain
They just wanted acknowledgement;
For you to know their name.
Tag: Depression
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Dark thoughts engulf my being as my will grows weak; I am tired but I can’t sleep. I am hungry, but I can’t eat. My essence has been taken away from me; I no longer know who I am. Fear has infused itself in me; I have lost my identity. Anxiety has rendered me listless; it has consumed my energy. Falling and falling; In a deep pit I am falling perpetually. The sun doesn’t shine here. The moon has turned to blood. Floods of illness chase me. They want to test my resolve. Am I loved? Am I secured? I laugh with madness at the blatant absurdity of the questions that seem to follow me. It is my own thoughts that haunt me. Plaguing me day after day like a wretched virus. “Go away, go away, don’t come back another day,” I say, but they never leave. Despair has been like an unwanted friend who has overstayed his welcome. Insomnia has forced me to stay up with him because misery loves company. The lack of sleep has diminished my every step. The days wane, and I have become a creature of the night. In zombie like state, stumbling around on dark streets, seeking hope in dark corners or at least some type of slight reprieve. Other night walkers pass by as we stare at each other with eyes of melancholy. Our eyes widen and illuminate in the dark, as a trail of anguish fades behind us. We are the creatures of the night; the night walkers who convey our stories of pain with a look into the eyes, but we never speak. In silence we walk. At 4am listen closely for the faint shuffling of feet.
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In darkness it has found me;
In deep waters it seeks to drown me;
It hides from the light
But comes back at nightTo rob me of my sleep;
In the early morning I weep;
There is no one there to hear
My misery and my fearIn my sad and darkest hours,
Alone my afflictions I bear.
A heavy cross to carry;
I seek eternal lifeI cry out to the Lord,
But suffering is my plight.
My every waking hour,
Is filled with suffering and painA horrid creature stalks me;
Insomnia is its name. -
The feelings of darkness surround me as anxiety overtakes me, and fear entraps me. It’s like invisible forces control me, as ghosts of the past haunt me. I’ve tried to break free, but they constantly taunt me. To my demise they pull me; In silence I suffer as they torment me; night and day it overtakes me. No tranquility. No peace, as they bait me. Constant insomnia. No rest; no sleep, for it awakes me. My Lord and My God, why do you forsake me? Will I survive or will it erase me? I look into the mirror, and the person looking back at me hates me. I am alone in my terror. Who will save me? It is a persistent suffering, but I fight the good fight daily. Is there any fight left in me? Maybe. I prefer when the skies are grey and rainy; I have grown accustomed to the darkness, for it has embraced me, and in that embrace it has chained me. I am now a slave to suffering, ever since that fateful night it found me. It was on a dark street in New York City, that panic first attacked me. I fought hard and valiantly, but it overtook me. It wreaked havoc on my mind, and to the core it shook me; it was strategic in the way it ambushed me, for I was unaware that it stalked me. It took my breath and to the ground it brought me; I would have cried out for help but who would understand me? I lay on the ground frozen, for it had paralyzed me. To heaven I will call once more, and hope that God hears me.
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I have walked through the fires of affliction
I have swam the deep waters of despair
I have Flown in the winds of suffering
I have endured the storms of pain
I have survived the earthquakes of illness
I have overcome the avalanches of doubt
I have escaped the floods of misunderstanding
I have conquered the tsunamis of betrayal
I still war with the ghosts of the past.
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Wailing voices. Voices that cry out with anguish but are heard by few. kept in the dark in quiet suffering, where there is a seemingly bottomless pit or black hole. A place where time is suspended and reality is turned on its head. Where sorrows are increased, and heavy burdens wear on even the strongest of men. Tears have been shed here; a vast ocean of tears abound. In the distance if you look closely, a woman can be seen sobbing in that dark place underneath the shadows. Her candle is lit, but dim. She turns away quickly to hide her face. She has been there many years, trapped in misery, and in the clutches of loneliness and self-doubt. In her hiding, she wants to be seen. In her quiet sobbing, she wants to be heard.
Intimate Compositions 