promise

Beauty is in my broken little pieces. In the way I  fall apart each night and yet manage to reassemble myself by the first ray of dawn.
I'm a mess, a collectible clutter of ill fiting pieces with high hopes of being whole in the future.
But that day will probably never come, for I'm not a diamond in the rough.
I was glass thought to be bulletproof but that was not the case.
I tried flame and ice to forge me anew and nothing happened, heaven's barred and hell won't have me.
So stay away, away from the mess I call life and you might be free of my curse.
But if you decide against my advice then promise not to complain about my sharp edges.

Homage

And thus silence became the most deafening sound coming from her mouth.
An empty silence as if she never existed or as if she was a dream that passed.
She no longer had time to linger, to beg.
She left, and the void came right after ready to fill the space she once occupied.

The lion and the lamb.

A dark path on a day like this is the only thing i can go down. Sorrow has taken my soul hostage for a long time, darkness feels like home most days, it's almost like a sickly sweet scent that makes you dizzy but still has you captivated. I stand bare with no fear of what this dark holds for I have been here too long, the light has become a distant memory almost unpleasant now that i think about it.

We are always held between heaven and hell, this transient state renders the soul useless. It's tiring just being with no reason trying for no obvious outcome, hunting, devouring and yet your hunger never being satisfied. The thrill coming and going like currents in the ocean.
I've become one with the lamb and the lion mocks me. It plays in the shadows always there but always unseen.
I'm blind as i run bleeding over the bridge, the bridge that leads to nothing and all.
"I'm yours" I scream and the darkness laughs, did i say this to myself? or to him? the everlooming pressence in my head, the lion, the wolf, the mastermind of this darkness the one who holds the knife and stabs my insides with every wrong move i make. Did he hear? Did he see? Did he sense the slip up? I dare not think what happens if he wins, for he must not come out to play, the rest of the flock is not ready for him yet and nor it will ever be.


                                                                 -He Laughed-

And then there was silence. Cold. Cold. Cold.
"Yours completely" I sing.
I can never forget what he's given me nor forsake it. So I'll stay here in his golden cage because in the end he came out and the sheep have not noticed that one of them has a taste for the hunt.