Another night under the dim moonlight, I took a
stroll to calm my madness
To claim what I felt lost - what was stolen or
gifted, I was not sure anymore.
Cobblestones ahead of me, darkness gently hugging
the body,
Wind softly holding the weary hands.
The restless of my mind is exhausting
Playing scenes long forgotten,
Voiced by people muted from the songs I play.
…
I let them conquer my thoughts, I let them run
wild
And then I strike back with confidence I thought I
never had.
This is just my overstimulated mind - They are no
longer here, my soul is safe.
Overthinking is my worst trait, reliving old pain
from time to time
Just to remind me I am not the one I used to be.
I enjoy the pain I inflict myself like a shameless
act, a punishment of once being weak.
I love the safeness of the night, I can show my
demons, I let them run wild.
I am losing my sanity and put myself back – we are
all doing it;
There is no denial – I enjoy the taste of my
weakness – sometimes bitter, sometimes sweat.
The silence is the mirror of my thoughts – so destructive,
raging like sea storm.
These sick conversations held ages ago, accompanied
by grief and betrayal
A dance of cruelty – I to them and them to me.
We live a morally grey lives – we are not villains
and yet we cannot be heroes even in our own fairy tales.
We are broken with the desire to brake those
closest to us, so that we are not alone – misery loves company.
We are so dedicated to the cause of being with cut
wings, unable to fly out of the grim situations we have created.
We play victims yet we are the cruelest executors,
carrying the “justice” on our filthy lips.
We are so damaged, annihilated emotionally;
craving “salvation” of who we truly are.
We are so ugly when alone yet so shiny when others
are around.
Duality is our first nature, theater with masks Venetian
style.
Our souls feel so ancient – culturally educated yet
destructively primitive – godlike beings.
We create, we destroy, we build and we tear down
as if it is not a big deal.
…
Possessed by old delusions and hate, these empty
streets feel so foreign, I am undoubtedly lost…
Should I give in into the old habits or should I fight
a constant battle – the old me or the new one to prevail.
I am so tired of this inner conflict, I feel so
dizzy every now and then
This inner strive for survival is so unnecessary
and yet I feel obliged to fight.
…
Cobblestones, dark night, alone with no regrets,
Grinning smile, predatory eyes – this is the final
form of my emotional strain.
I am the monster and the ethereal being – light and
darkness
Neither good nor bad – just a human in its weakest
state
Seconds before calling my demons back inside,
Before hiding all the pain and happiness just to
stay a few more days peacefully ALIVE.
And then the cycle will repeat in self-destruction
and self-rebuilding countless more times.
