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The End.
Contributed by
FleurdeSang
on
Tuesday, 26th October 2004 @ 03:09:17 PM in AEST
Topic:
Suicide
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Destined into a life of death,
Shattered hopes mean nothing
And it is time to seek this end,
By my hand,
With this knife,
I cull that, which holds my legacy,
To this place, to those people…
Who shall rock in disdain?
At my cowardice,
At my selfishness,
And my agony,
I hope to lie for hours,
Millennia on end of pain…
The horrors of my past still haunt me,
Rape my mind incessantly,
Making me more disturbed, more utterly insane...
Death mocks me, makes me touch it,
Makes me long for it,
A long-awaited end to all of this...
This hideous existence that is mine...
Too late to fill me with love…
Too broken to keep up the flow…
I lost my hate along time ago,
Passive in my relentlessness,
And the passing bird dies…
And the masked woman is full of lies…
She is peaceful in her ignorance,
Beautiful in her obliviousness…
Desperate and hopeless,
Limitless in solitude…
I couldn’t overcome this;
I couldn’t bring any other end…
And I know you hate me…
And I know you love me…
And I no longer know what that means;
I no longer understand what I mean…
My tears are pitiful,
Meaningless in a bleak and pitiful world…
Why do I still have hopes of a future?
It is useless...
The past has stayed as the past,
The present is a meaningless chapter,
To a far more meaningless book...
Tears drip from eyes,
Screams leak from my mouth,
Muscles spasm in anguish…
An instant rush of memories once loved...
I hold the thought,
Of everything,
All at once...
The perpetual Darkness is near,
Fear consumes me,
For in the end, we all wish to live...
My legacy dies…
Seeps away…
Like the beautiful essence that flows from my crimson wrists,
Like the music that reverberated through my soul,
Like the love that I once felt and had...
The chains are broken,
The feeble wings spread wide,
And I take flight...
At last, I am finally free...
Copyright ©
FleurdeSang
... [
2004-10-26 15:09:17]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The End.
(User Rating: 1 )
by theMoth on
Tuesday, 26th October 2004 @ 03:18:33 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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Operatic.
Truly conveys the embrace
of sweet Death welcomed
by one whose life is torn
with despair.
Those who know this feeling
will know these words,
but few will ever dare
to express it freely like this.
--Mothy |
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Re: The End.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Nazmythian on
Tuesday, 26th October 2004 @ 04:32:36 PM AEST
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a Message)
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theMoth hath written words that could not be more true. I feel pained reading of such words of despair and send my heart out to you, hoping that it can help, in some minor way to make a difference.
Nazmythian ~
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Re: The End.
(User Rating: 1 )
by a_bear on
Tuesday, 26th October 2004 @ 05:28:28 PM AEST
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Very well expressed. But as you are still able to use your keyboard, I hope it is just poetry expressing itself..
I lost a dear friend today that wanted nothing more than life..he clung to it with everything he had..he lost his fight and now I wish I could join him..he went off with my heart you see..If you do go..maybe we could go together..sometimes trips are cheaper when two travel together~ |
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Re: The End.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Kindredblood_dragon on
Thursday, 4th November 2004 @ 06:32:53 AM AEST
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With this poem you make death sound sweet, and inviting, taking away the tang of uglyness, and filling it with longing and beauty.
I had a friend once, a really cool mate with the whole world in front of him, a girl friend family and friends, then he was gone, swinging from a beam in his shed, one minute happy an hour later dead......no note only unanswered questions.
Death may be sweet to some but loss, seems to follow on its heals, I write about death, I favour it alot, and have been there a few times through my actions, but in the end, what is the price of such an action?
No need to answer this, but I can say this much you write so fluidly, making the words create clear visual images, opening the mind up to a different world, the poem fare screams visions, and if you dont mind me saying so is actually a beautifully written write, thank you for the privilage of reading such a poetic tapestry. |
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