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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Thoughts of a man, who's lost his purpose

Submitted: October 03, 2018

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Submitted: October 03, 2018





~Jason Woods


How long can one endure, to keep the pace, to find the system, those steps to trace,

To follow the path, set before, to trudge along, your heart forlorn,

To walk the darkness, is my call, to see the creatures, in their fall,

To view their truth, to feel their cry, to smell their sweat, to hear their lies,

To watch their eyes, as they gleam, to feel their intent it does seem,

For what purpose must I watch, given this gift, my muscles taught,

I see your games, I know your move on the board, I know their names,

I watch the shadows when you speak, reaching for you when you are weak,

You have taken your strength from another, captured as if a mother,

Cradled their innocence, in your arms, taking it in, causing their harm,

Who defends them, the meek do call, who shall shield them, in the fall,

Who is given to their pain, pushing aside creatures untamed,

A wave of overwhelming senses, a flood of thoughts, reality tested,

The trees, they do whisper to me, calling my name, in a dreadful glee,

The wind itself, attacking lips, pushing my vision, the assailment intrinsic,

Designed by the night to push you away, to make me forget, my thoughts that day,

Shall one ever enter my mind, engulf my heart, my soul in kind,

The road itself a travel of self, to forget you now, my heart on your shelf,

I only want to forget your voice, your touch, your smell, your perpetual choice,

Again, and again, I fought for you, drew my sword, blood I’ve hewn,

To what I must ask, to what avails, the turmoil itself, as harsh as the hail,

I beg you now, set me free, release me not, let my soul be,

Somehow you’ve captured my very essence, I ask for freedom from the chains, I give my penance,

I’m weaker now, I cannot hold, my shoulders straight, keep my spirit bold,

Given to kneel this very night, to let them come, to take my sight,

To be crushed under their fangs, to feel blood flow, on my hands,

To feel the very life taken from me, all for freedom of pain you see,

Give me my heart, that very thing, so I may find peace within,

Let me give it to another, one who will nurture, protect and covet,

One who will take ownership divine, one who does not fear to call herself mine,

Perhaps it is all a dream, a nightmare for life, cackled from the obscene,

Or have I truly found my home, against the cold, and broken bones,

Have I become what I feared, faced my demons clutched them dear,

Welcomed death, and all it’s life,

Found the portal this very night,

Stared that creature in it’s eye,

Smelled it’s hunger, welcomed it’s lies,

© Copyright 2019 J Woods. All rights reserved.

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