{{{behind walls}}}A Poem by joshua deathdealer2009
The gray skies have long turned to glassy black.
Taking with it the light of hope and sociability. Misanthropy and consolation have led to deep mutilation of my cast. Cutting this facade to my inner-most recesses has opened up a whole meaning to the One that dwells within. Burning and twisting out of sheer boredom and lack of interest. I am a vanguard of death, a destroyer of dreams. There is this cavity instead of conscience or so it seems. Your elegy is my diversion. Your tears are my perversion. You see retention has led to aberration, told to me in a presage. I fight this maddness for all that I am worth but phantasm always wins. Locking me up behind walls, behind walls, behind walls of sadness. Turning my world into an idea, a shadow of a former life. What used to be just a metaphor has turned into reality. My dabbling has backfired transforming me into a delegate of darkness. Fidelity walks hand in hand with stratagem. I am a living contradiction. This manifestation of what seethes inside me brings me to the ground over and over again. This lamentation breathes, trying to claw its way out from behind walls, behind walls, behind walls of sadness. My shade has withered. The sun is my demise.
© 2011 joshua deathdealerAuthor's NoteFeatured Review
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StatsAuthorjoshua deathdealerCasket City, FLAbout"My trepidation of things past is not a song with a beginning, middle and end. But an endless symphony playing infinite variations on the same theme. One day of sadness fades into another and the .. more..Writing
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