Sometimes I wonder if dying hurts.
Sometimes I wonder if killing yourself hurts....
Maybe that is the point. Pain is part of the allure.
Why is no one's reality true, no one ever realizes their dreams until to late, and than they are gone.
Blood pours from a fatal wound,
as the known world spins out of control.
tear stained faces
wreath in agony
High notes sound above all mortal pains,
unmelodius and free,
not to be willed upward
but decending into the never ending reign of discord.
Spirits flock in a final resting place,
gone forever from what once was,
and never will be again,
pure.
Low groans echo,
in the vast plains of comprehension
yet know one knows the difference
in the unfortold genius or unwanted mayhem.
Far off an angel sings,
her serene voice clear and true,
and we let go,
never to turn back,
except in memory.
It only seems fitting that it is painful. That the pain is the last thing that leaves, before beautiful oblivion.
 Persuis · Sat Dec 02, 2006 @ 08:36pm · 2 Comments |
