You awakened by the nightmares in the morning as tired as tired as you slept yesterday. The day goes by without noticing the value of being awake. There is an empty space that can not be filled by the daily routines you set, you look at the possibilities of better outcomes but thoughts of the good times l had with you still haunt me. I look at the mirror and wonder what defect might have caused you to harass my soul in such a manner. Looking directly in to my soul, life is sucked right of my chest and positivity flies out through the window, right through my eyes emptiness beams from the inner self. Right when l was about to throw the towel, there came an angel with a cup filled with love and a ray of new hope, an inspiration for a better future with her arises the giant that had been slain in the domain of love. your life starts making sense and you past pains evaporate in heat of the new star rising in sky. You begin to anticipate going to sleep because of the safe heaven you are in with her, the comfort turns hours to seconds . ALAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!LIKE A MAN WHO SURVIVES AFTER BEING HIT BY A TRUCK ONLY TO FIND HIS WIFE IN BED WITH ANOTHER.... The response hit me like a bomb, my thoughts spiraled back to the man on the mirror defeated and broken AGAIN!!! How can she not feel the same after the signs she gave me. was it all in my head, what about the kiss we shared? What is this unspoken thing she always mentioned? My world crumbled down, life lost meaning at that moment l wish l could have jumped in front of that truck again, this time fully aware that l was going under. Her words pierced like a blunt knife in the hands of a psychopath and the thought of her was like someone twisting the knife. The worst about the ordeal is that despite the shattered heart she gave me, there is a part of me that still wants the best for her. like a knight in a shining armor, l talk and laugh with her whilst my mind is grinding and emotions re-opening the wounds of heartbreak . a constant reminder of the fire you are walking on bare foot on, the sorrow of not being able to hold her tight and the troubled soul that has made a safe haven in hell. The words of dreamer constantly haunt you as you believed that you had found the one that would take you on wild journey to self discovery only to realize that you dug a grave and sent your heart to hell where its constantly fried by the fallen angel l still consider my guardian angel.......end...
THE LITTLE MAN! Stamps outdate by the same old folktales that echo morality in the face of dawn. The crowded memories bedridden to sweet melodies banging in barren islands of smoldering tales twisting to the sound of morning, fangs of desparation slowly creeping towards a dear old pal. Application of reality is a song rhymed in a mind that clatters through windows phantoming towards temporaly misplaced opinions. The journey to tommorow is written on a daily basis as the favourate echoing of the memories that dawn time. In the jungle the laws differ, a veil is cast between self with the defination of self mostly aligning with first impressions as a clown reading a book without the cover. In the desert running like dunes thoughts fumble steps in the the blown whirlwind of time, slowly yet fading reality becomes the manifestation of ink cramped in plastic sweating arousal from paper blank with imaginations to fill. Stories are best intepreted with understanding which comes after knowledge...
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