penitance

time faith distress burning fury tired weariness sleep truth fear anger pain suffering neglection longing loneliness self loathing hunger starvation agony love cold introversion anti social deprivation black loss depression darkness animosity wanderlust lost opaque forgotten ravaged horror temptation

i need solace i need rest for i am weary and have grown tired of this life

the child lay on the bed not moving at all the mother had killed him from grace he did fall

dieses ist mein Verlust den dieses meine Schmerz ist dieses mein Leid ist dieses mein Leben ist c\'est ma perte que c\'est ma douleur c\'est ma peine c\'est ma vie ciò è la mia perdita che questo è il mio dolore questo è il mio dolore questa è la mia vita ésta es mi pérdida que éste es mi dolor ésta es mi pena ésta es mi vida this is my loss this is my pain this is my grief this is my life

dreaming of a better day thinking of a better life i could have it all all i need is a knife

no one is there to hear the shotgun hit the floor another life, bloodily ended blown away in his own grief and anger no one was ever there to hear anything he had to say

im losing the war my inner demons are winning my good side is slowly subsiding like a bad stomach ache the civilization is running primal instincts overtake me the inner demons are not bad they are who i really am not the sugar coated shell that glazed the eyes of everyone my hatred breeds deep in my heart for me for everyone existance is meaningless when all you have is grief

gone is the fairy tale lost in the back of a black mind you say you love me but i can not reply in kind

i walk to the priest wielding my knife i take the blade and slit my wrist from this world i wish to be released to be finally rid of this life this exit god doth forbade but of here i take eucharist

the small child stood in the doorway the bus had pulled up it was the first day of school he had years of work ahead of him where he\'d constantly learn not just arithmetic but how completely screwed up the world is how no one is really all that they seem to be how no one in the end is really there how he is going to be reasurred of his place in life; for he is going to be a conformist tie and shirt slacks and sportcoat everyone is uniform no one is special the mother kisses the boy on the cheek and walks him to the bus knowing full well what cruelties are about to be forced on her offspring