• Untitled Thoughts:

    Why must I write, why must I try,
    Why must I cry crimson tears as I solely wish to die,

    I write this silently, secretly, depressed as I am,
    Staring blankly, at all that is man,
    We people, us persons, our personas differ,
    For none are as they seem, this is our ill endeavor,

    Victory achieved by violence, as we vindicate the versions,
    Of our personal values, on what we perceive as true,
    Nothing is as it seems any longer,
    As we all, we living, we dead, all are warmongers,
    Whether it be from violence, prejudice, thoughts and counsel,
    We fight ourselves, our innermost fears,
    Fought with a bottle, a pill or tears,

    Our fight is never done,
    For some their fight has just begun,
    My fight will never end, my own body I cannot befriend.
    My mind contradicts everything I believed to be true,
    My hearts verdicts are harsh against all I knew,
    My own subconscious tries to kill me,
    I am my own greatest enemy,
    My own forlorn, sworn enemy.

    So why yet do I still live, when I have gave all that I can give,
    I suppose… I live for you, my love for you is true,
    I no longer know what to do,
    Other than to spend my final moments in the arms of you…