Let me dance on strings for thee.

I tread softly on the strings of insanity

And as I do, they do play a lovely tune.

A chord that’s soft, and sweet to hear

I try my best to be gentle; trust me here.

 

Sometimes I can dance, or even prance

And the melody is free. And the glee

That greets the faces of all those that care to be

Near to me shows zeal! But then I fail –

 

And I fall –

And it screeches to a halt.

 

It reaches my song, and the strings are strained!

What breeches the ears brings real pain

And I fear that I cannot muffle the disdain

That you might have for me. But I ask of thee,

Please let me play again.

 

Will you let me play again?

Out, Out –

Glorious epoch, lasting finity,

I have observed the clock

For too damn long,

It ticks and it ticks and it fucking tocks.

Like a marching band,

Thundering at me every second,

To the last syllable of recorded time.

 

Life is something strange,

And at times I do not like it,

And at times it is bliss.

I can’t stomach the infrequency.

Give me hell or give me heaven,

For all eternity. But leave me be,

Oh infrequency, leave me be.

 

If I can justify it enough;

That’s the real flaw.

That’s the real issue at heart,

Because I have needs!

Real desperate needs

Like when you need air!

And the panic is real to me.

It is so real to me.

But do I ever get it?

Rarely. And when I do it’s

Not enough.

Not enough to calm the rage,

The storm and tempest building inside me.

 

I am a wretch

And I scorn goodness and loath evil.

I despise love and detest hate,

Nothing is the remedy,

Therefore, the remedy is nothing;

I will search for you then;

Oh beloved dusk of night,

And blindness of gloried light

I will search for you,

Won’t you swallow up my time?

End my suffering; I’ll bleed out my life.

My drugged out scope of indifference

I have a prescription

To feel nothing.

I have a mind

That’s blind to reason.

I wake up with a mind that aches

It sits and hopes it all breaks,

And crumbles; the world should fall

The petty little people suffer,

But I fall and fall and laugh

Because for me it would be fucking fun!

Come at me chasm,

I want to be swallowed by the abyss!

 

My soles burn from running,

But my soul burns if I stop hunting.

I sought to have too much fun,

Too much water drowns you.

But I’m starting to think I like drowning.

Or perhaps I just liking lying to myself?

Too scared to admit that I’m afraid,

That perhaps life wasn’t really meant for me.

Alas, the sun has risen again.

I have days, when I am great!

I mean it as simply as that.

Nothing more, nothing less,

Simply magnificent,

Totally pristine.

So alive, so blessed, so loved,

Purely by being me! It is amazing.

Sometimes, I even weep out of joy!

I feel the essence of bliss, and become it.

 

But then it’s comes again,

That heavy cloak of despair;

Those chains of doubt latch again.

They creep onto me and clutch me down

Pulling me deeper and deeper into the crust

Of the very earth! I feel dragged to hell.

I cannot fight at times, just struggle.

A rat in a cage; a prisoner I make of myself,

No one is joyful when their freedom is taken.

But I break the bonds, I am persistent.

And I have chance to smile again,

To laugh again, to live again.

 

It will return, this I do not doubt,

Just trust in me when I smile,

I hope you can forgive this demon,

For what you know as a man,

Is a beast betrayed by his bane,

But bear with me, I break my bounds.

 

Ripples of the water.

Ripples of the water front.

Shackled by the bay.

Cold winds I confront,

Rain comes but I stay.

 

Ripples of the torrent.

Forces that invade.

It comes to where it’s foreign,

It breaches my domain.

 

Ripples of the wild sea

Creeping to my waist.

It sees my glee

At this water I can taste.

 

Ripples of the marine

Bounds water in, out.

I’ll never be clean,

But I drink for I won’t shout.

 

Ripples of the water

Have come for me

I am shackled like a martyr

But I won’t drown in the sea.

Sisterly sister, answer me.

Sisterly sister, am I a sinner?

I know I am not a killer,

But why then am I condemned?

No matter where I am not content,

No matter how I feel dissent.

I just feel cruelly tethered

To the world. I just can’t hold it together.

My days are nothing more than a procession of recession,

And each session’s a new lesson on depression.

I don’t feel like I can deny the fact that I so heavily rely

On sleep to get me by.

Reality is a lot easier to deal with in a dream.

And it’s even easier to say carpe diem

Than actually fulfilling your self-esteem.

When I wake I lust for sleep, to go back to counting sheep.

Sisterly sister, why does this make me weep?

 

Sisterly sister, why am I alive?

I was blessed with life and I think it’s all just strife.

I was urged to live it right and now I yearn for the night.

If I died tonight, I wouldn’t walk towards the light.

What man would return?

Would they yearn to be reborn?

What would they seek?

A new land where they can fall asleep?

Do they yearn for another struggle; I don’t think it’s worth the trouble.

When I happen to die, I’ll say my goodbyes.

But I won’t take my time, the guide I’ll abide.

And as he takes my hand, and leads my off to his land.

I will know that the time I now take is mine,

I won’t feel like I have to steal

My life from the grasps time.

I can merely enjoy the fact that I have died,

I don’t think there is any better death in my mind.

Sisterly sister, why do you cry?

Dry those tears from your eyes.

Be happy now that I have words to live by.

I’ll live perchance to dream happily,

I’ll live perchance to sleep endlessly.

 

A Serenade of Solemn Strings

The world played solemn strings for only her,

When they did, I’d see eyes so full of dread

That I can’t help but let mine eyes tear-shed.

Looking back now to what I knew of her,

I know there were things I could –

Should have said.

When I knew her, when she was still alive,

There were times when she’d begin to sparkle.

At times she’d be granted a gift from god,

And turn the most wonderful shade of gold.

It’s when the strings began to play again,

She’d have to withdraw, too afraid to live.

The serenade of melancholia.

Her spirit chained, ordained to be the cursed,

Even so, she gladly paid the toll though.

For without pain, what meaning has happiness?

All she told me was that she must listen.

For if she did not, she would not be worth

That shade of gold, akin a deities light.

When joy enveloped her, she gave to all.

The golden Sun warms Earth with endless love,

As did she. But weep one does all alone.

For glee is contagious, but gloom is not.

I think of her, after she killed herself.

As I do, I remember the sad strings,

And wish to have heard them, to know of them.

Yet I am busy with another grief,

One that plays heartlessly on my heartstrings.

There won’t be any shade of gold for me,

Only this blue I suffer through with things,

I wish I’d done, and regret I did not.

The only woman I loved and adored,

Died seeking to end the endless sore stings,

For in her mind she was always abhorred.

I miss she who listened to solemn strings.