...obeying the voices in my head...

Sunday, March 05, 2006

The Dark Harvest

The Black Moon rose,
Reflecting the life that I chose.
A chill in the air shows signs of a storm,
This bitter cold would never cease.
I grope through the darkness
to find the shattered peices,
But all my attempts end in vain,
All this suffering and this pain.
All the anger bottled up inside
Waiting to erupt on a harmless victim,
It's not that I chose to live this life,
It's this life that chose me.
No, I ran out of clues,
to this bitter search for happiness,
and satisfy my soul
with this weak smile that's stuck on my face.
All the anguish and all the fear,
I wish all of it would dissapear.
So I could see again this world of misery,
And laugh at the pity of mankind.
Nobody knows their limitations.
But my limitation is the only thing I have.
Stuck in this everlasting darkness,
I grope back for my sigth.
God, it's not your fault,
It must be mine.
Because all the facts of truth is what I can't deny.
And all that you have given me is what -
I cannot find.


beetleshit said...

i presume you wrote this b4 da xams..well good poem man.