"Heartbroken and Lonely"

"The Study"

A poem I wrote about the study in my mind, the things it holds, and the things I write within that sudy...

A candle's alight,

On a mantle.

Cascading shadows of fright,

Are not dull.

A skull is there,

With eyes of shadow.

The candle's feelings bared,

In it's depths so sallow.

The light from the flame,

Can't penetrate the dark.

Those feelings of shame,

In the white so stark.

The books below them,

Are tomes of wisdom.

But nobody sees them,

Outside of this prison.

The musky air in my study,

Is thick with smokey tendrils.

I'm in here with nobody,

And my page is being kindled.

The chair beneath me,

Is giving way to my dreams.

But it knows what I can be,

So it's unbreakable, it seems.

The pen I write with,

Is a quill of endless measure.

My words are like a fist,

Raw and without pleasure.

I've filled those books,

With all my circumstances.

All the unsteady looks,

And untrustworthy glances.

The paper I'm using,

Is a reflection of my whole.

My ego's taken a bruising,

But I won't let it affect my soul.

The skull is staring,

With malice and hate.

It's the absence of caring,

And the laughter of fate.

The candle's awash,

With the flames of hope.

It can't feel the loss,

Or the burning of the rope.

The rope of my insecurities,

Is always wrapped around.

It feels like it is hanging me,

Fifty feet above the ground.

I'll hold on to my paper,

The candle's flames won't eat.

And the study's steady vapor,

Will keep me on my feet.

I've latched on to a thought,

Like a raft among the sea.

The study of my mind's brought,

All new security to me.

I will discover brand new worlds,

That I dig up from the sand.

And as my life is unfurled,

It will be anything,

But bland.