The exhaustion has begun to set in. The fatigue brought on by such a quarrel. The internal separation in futile hopes for self preservation. The rioting of all sides, each skirmishing for ultimate superiority. The darkest shadows hidden deep inside, clawing for means to resurface. Scratching at the walls built up around them, emprisoning them in solitude. The depressive belittlements sent by your mind, desperately attempting to regain deadly control. The small flicker of hope, of life, of light, of the love shown unbeknownst. The spark of humanity having been struck by the godlike being who is your match. Without such small flicker; without such light, no matter how meagre, by darkness you'd be devoured. Drowning in your own demons, your own selfishness, a beautiful angel came along, to hold you afloat. To carry you across the raging storm in your mind; to bring clarity to your twisted, blackened soul. You shan't let him carry you forever, nor shall you burden him further with your own darkened, pompous sorrows. You must stand for yourself; your true, untainted self, that which hasn't been blackened by demons, but shines so brightly
YOU ARE READING
A Story Told, But Never Really Heard
PoetryThis is me. With no boundaries I reveal myself and hopefully save myself. I'm not sure whether I am writing this for you, or for me, but I hope it makes an impact none the less.
