Repetition, repossessionA Poem by MercelusLiving with out experiences is a waste of a life. At times we all forget how precious life is, and how little time we have. Make the best out of it.
Living in the void.
Lost in the loneliness. Listening to the same, overplayed melody. Increasingly more angered, by the repetition. Tears of blood fall, draining the life, from the glazed over eyes. Wearing this hourglass, around my neck, constantly reminded. As the sands fall silently, remembering how precious little time, we have wasted, remains. Clawing this body to pieces. Nothing more than bruises, and bloody hands. Watching the world, from a set of steps, sights start to shorten. Perhaps it's the fear of the unknown. Maybe this heart will freeze over, letting go of loved ones. The ability to predict, to a tee, the coming days. A pain in a way more horrifying, more brutal and bloody, than losing those loved. Stuck in this cycle. Lost in thought. Constantly questioning, Why torture myself? Why repeat the same mistake as so many others have. Why live a life of regret? Living a life left behind, long ago. Realization sinking in. into the marrow of my bones. Body shaking, weak and frail. Times almost up, The choice must be made. So i'll step from these steps. Leave all the luxuries, and the loved behind. Skip through the melody's, living in a peaceful chaos. The choice made. This body all patched up, though riddled with scars. It's time to take control of this life, Lead one worthy of living.
© 2012 MercelusFeatured Review
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StatsAuthorMercelusPAAbout22. "I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself." -D.H. Lawrence Indifference is just th.. more..Writing
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