Alright, this is a new story about
Love and hate and the perfection of
But, hay, I somehow cannot
Remember what it was like to love
In the moments when there was nothing
Within my soul.
Although, I have to begin
With why I refused to feel
And end with what made me feel love
And hate myself for feeling it.
It was 3 am
And the radio was turned on and
My mother was screaming at the empty
Walls, bare and broken, like
The walls of my soul
Best friend lived in my haunted castle.
I would turn myself from feeling anything
And I would break down all my memories
So I don’t have to feel again…Because feeling
Is like opening the door for the monsters of
To come right in.
I never really lost a world, although
It felt like the world has lost me
Because things just stopped making sense
And I stopped writing and
And knowing what love was.
Before the haunted castle was torn down
I swore never to feel again and
Because of that I never knew what love was.
Even to-day I wonder if what I feel is
If what I feel for someone,
is really love? Or ifIt isn’t just a fixation or a cold obsession
Followed closely by the fear of being alone?
And the worse things is that I know nothing
Because I keep telling myself
There really isn’t
Anything to know,
Because love is hate and
That is the end of it all.
But it’s not.
There is no end that simple, just like
There is no road paved with chocolate and
Candy sweets…life isn’t always sweet
And all of us suffer through the bitter times…But it doesn’t kill us
It must make us stronger.
But I am off the track and I have lost
Myself and I suppose
You as well,
In what I meant to say.
I was locked in my own soul,
My own dark interpretation of
What life was and of what
I was locked there without a way out
And when you’re alone, you want to
But I could not. For there was no
Memory of how to or how it felt.
I was dead inside, locked and burning
Like the dead in the grave…eternally.
Then my mother, dressed in the robes of
An angel, jumped through the brick wall
And freed my soul. I was angry, because
I was so far gone that I wanted to die,
To burn eternally like the dead of whom
Nobody knows anything. I struck the angel
And I was not sorry, for I could not feel.
And it is then that death descended upon me
And then that I felt I have lost the world,
Rather than being lost in my own nothingness.
And when the time to heal again, came,
I was sick and torn and tormented by daemons
Of which were faceless friends and bad worlds.
I had to break down the dark caves and
Kill the vampires that wanted to suck out my soul…
And I had to do it all by
That is the story of how I became
But still I could not feel.
The task might have
Had I had the power in me
To FEEL again.
But still, to-day, I am not even sure
If I have found it yet.
Even after all these months…
Have I come back to the world and
Come back into the life
And started feeling
Pulsing in me
No.This is the point where I
Where all that was left and new
Even that which had been rebuilt
After the war with the white robed
To us again.
And I did not care.
I felt nothing.
I did not love
And I did not
I was only locked in my own
Of which I am sure now
That I could not have felt then.
After the sickness
Comes the antidote
And I found mine sooner than
Anyone would have
He was something to me
And I did not know what,
And so my quest began, saddled
On the BLACK HORSE
Of fear, I rode into his world
To find the truth that he
In the beginning there was nothing but
The pretty face
For I could not even come close enough
To see those, now known,
The hair was blond, and the skin pure
For I was not allowed close to
See the small
On his skin;
And after making myself love him
I realized that he might not love
And it was too late.
I had fallen into my own trap
I MUST NOT LOVE!
DEATH of the soul.
I would never learn
And nothing would ever make sense.
Now the nameless one who stole
And all my friends, or the
That does not fear my being,
Says that she doesn’t want me
But it is far to late!
Have broken my soul and
Have broken my promise so
Must suffer for it.
There, it is written, in my
That I have been deceived by one
Whom I love
And would love still
And would not forget
As easily as anyone
And now I knowI
Giving you this and that
Giving and getting nothing
Can somebody help me?
All I need
Is to be
And screaming these words,
About the stranger that I love,
The stranger that has stolen my heart
And with every bit of rejection
Is killing my soul.
I wonder why
I must give
My soul in return to feel
This is the world.
This is the
Life that we
This is the Rubbish of Love
© Copyright 2016 Lex The Damned. All rights reserved.
Book / Other
Short Story / Other
Poem / Poetry
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