What a Mess of Time

11 days

5 hours

21 minutes

And 54 seconds...

The moment of death,

Dear I cries:

Till the moment I set foot,

Underneath the northern light skies.

And should I find refuge

That I feel like I've needed,

Hopefully it'll be enough:

To say that I've seceded,

In filling up this black spot in my soul,

You know, the place that no matter what you do.

You can't seem to top it off,

For what it is, you haven't the faintest clue.

Is it just me looking for an excuse?

Am I just running away from life?

Dreams, thoughts, and reality,

Because I feel like I don't fit in its perfect picture,

To live a solitudinal, poor, sad, life?

But be with in God's stead in similarity?

It seems like a bunch if nonsense now that I think of it.

I can't even get my message through in poetry.

Why suffer and try to explain myself constantly,

When it's an impossible understanding.

Maybe this is why I run.

Because I can't see my own warm sun.

But I seem to find black clouds and blue snow,

Including my destination for it's there wherever I go.

The things I need cannot be found,

And the wrong things support you in times of despair.

This drama that I'm enduring has lost its luster,

And now I'm tired of this, crappy, desperate affair.

Hope my decisions are better than the ones I've previously made,

Give me luck my [few] friends,

Because where I'm going [in realities],

It'll either be heaven, or hell,

Or maybe just another timezone where life is just full of parodies.