Thursday, May 24, 2007

The Poetic Mind of a Madman - Volume 10

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Oh sick and poisoned soul from mind I see the ruination of self

Cold desperate disheartened and feeble are my closed intentions

Dispassionate ailing that finds way to stew the churning melodramatic crazed hate

Can I trust my own head or should I wish it turned off?

Trust is not found in the places that the answers scream for they are never the same or few

Farthest out crying withering pools of putrid black water from which to drink

The only places that my own center would wish to rest old, withered, dying

What the hell have I to expect as my only friend, my rival, my enemy rests within, and hates me with more venom then the harshest of critics

The noises won't turn off

Self medicating hatred that festers and boils with no outlet, too far, too few

No you can not escape who you are, what you are, you just are

Deathly ill the sick poison courses the veins and takes whole what only fights weakly to denounce your very own right to exist, to be happy, to be free

Without the sounding there is no sweet, no friendly, no happy, no hope

Who Knew?

I knew

Beyond the door there is no salvation, no light, no hope, and playful voices are what draw me to that place with no core, no light

Again within the dark confines of the scariest place known I feel, I hurt, I cry

Despite the fear, the anxiety, the chaos, the enemy, the fool, the me, within

There is no hope, eyes open, fists clenched, teeth grinding, mind fighting back, chaos, torment, hopeless anxiety with fear and loathing like song from the sirens that tortured brave Ulysses, Odysseus, Poseidon, Hades, hate, anger, less than

Nothing

To release one must be willing to grow and who knows when anyone is ever ready for that

I always think I am anyway

Who knew?

I knew

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, fuck ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2007

Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest