Welcome to My Notebook.

Helping Hand

  I pray for vision in this land of darkness and wickedness.

This world has become colder than the North Pole, and become flooded by lost souls searching for their way home.

I try to remain strong throughout the mist of the mayhem, but I've seen vicious scenes that would cause the cleanest mouths to say damn.

I finally opened up my eyes, and I was introduced to a world filled with hate, so I decided to box myself in, feeling no one could relate.

Closing myself off was a huge mistake, I tried to hold everything in, I had trust issues with the world, so I only confided in my pen.

I'm trying to do better, but I often find myself writing myself letters, ignoring all signs that I could really use some help.

I guess I never wanted to be viewed as  burden, or cause any disturbance, so I programmed my mind to keep going whenever my soul was hurting.

Whenever I'm feeling hopeless, I ink my pages with rages, and dark thoughts that can cut deeper than razors.

I need a spiritual taser, to shock my soul, and rejuvenate it.

There's nothing more deflating than loosing hope, it's almost equivalent to loosing life.

But I have the heart of a champion, so I'm going to continue the fight.

I won't give up, so you cannot give up neither, and if you fall I'll be right there with a helping hand, doing whatever I can to help out my fellow man.