Open your now tear-filled eyes, and look around you to see that there's nothing but shadows. Breathe a sigh of relief while trying to clear your mind of the terrifying images that were haunting you. There's no one around. Tell yourself that everything will be fine. Realize that only makes things worse, because things are not fine. If they were fine, your heart wouldn't be beating against your chest like a bird searching for an escape.
It's time to calm down. You won't accomplish anything if you can't get your terror under control. Force your mind to stop thinking about the things that could've happened and the things that might yet happen. Put a halt to the fears, the tears, the screaming, and the dreaming. It will all... be... fine...
Let yourself sink into peaceful darkness.
Showing posts with label insanity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label insanity. Show all posts
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Mathahnus
Silver threads spun by spiders
With tears of morning on the precious lines,
Against the sun soon to set,
The steady flowing rivers clear her mind.
Ah, Mathahnus, you are ice.
Your words are the burn that pretends to be heat.
Though it feels like touching flames,
You see through the feeling and know the deceit.
Leaves of gold wave under brilliant skies,
Until the clouds gather in their hatred of life.
Then decay sets in to brown the edges,
And life is extinguished like a throat and a knife.
Ah, Mathahnus, you are night.
With all the heavens trying to destroy your shadows,
With all the stars to fill you,
For everyone to see, you're still left dark and hollow.
Will the sun, the light of hope, come again?
Sometimes for dark dwelling creatures it is hard to believe.
The black and despair are so consuming
That light seems to wither before its touch while all hope leaves.
With tears of morning on the precious lines,
Against the sun soon to set,
The steady flowing rivers clear her mind.
Ah, Mathahnus, you are ice.
Your words are the burn that pretends to be heat.
Though it feels like touching flames,
You see through the feeling and know the deceit.
Leaves of gold wave under brilliant skies,
Until the clouds gather in their hatred of life.
Then decay sets in to brown the edges,
And life is extinguished like a throat and a knife.
Ah, Mathahnus, you are night.
With all the heavens trying to destroy your shadows,
With all the stars to fill you,
For everyone to see, you're still left dark and hollow.
Will the sun, the light of hope, come again?
Sometimes for dark dwelling creatures it is hard to believe.
The black and despair are so consuming
That light seems to wither before its touch while all hope leaves.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Falling
I know that when the leaves fall
We will no longer stand tall,
For beneath the weight of their call
We are made to feel small.
We know when we have lost,
But do we know the cost?
Back and forth again we're tossed,
Our fate is cold as frost.
It's too late to fight.
We're given to night.
The bands are drawing tight
The strength of our plight.
We're in the flame
With none to blame.
The people grow lame.
Same is our aim.
No more rhyme.
Our minds fade.
Our wills are gone.
What is left?
We live?
Not here.
United death
Is all.
Soon
We
Will be
Gone.
Bye.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Confusing Stuff I Wrote In My Journal
Wisdom twists and turns around the bend of fate that we create. With our books, our songs, our speeches, the world we envision is made.
In every shadow rests a word. A word springing from danger, fear, superstition. Why do we fear the dark? Because our worst words wait there. Each one of us in powerless to stop them. They can only be erased by thousands of words from thousands of mouths.
Even then all may be lost. For they have been forgotten before only to creep back into the thoughts of a few and spread like a plague.
Often the light sharpens the shadows that they may pierce all the deeper. For it too is made from words. Often it is believed that the words come from the light. But if that were so, we would not have so many shadows. Unless all shadows and all lights were the same.
In every shadow rests a word. A word springing from danger, fear, superstition. Why do we fear the dark? Because our worst words wait there. Each one of us in powerless to stop them. They can only be erased by thousands of words from thousands of mouths.
Even then all may be lost. For they have been forgotten before only to creep back into the thoughts of a few and spread like a plague.
Often the light sharpens the shadows that they may pierce all the deeper. For it too is made from words. Often it is believed that the words come from the light. But if that were so, we would not have so many shadows. Unless all shadows and all lights were the same.
Monday, July 15, 2013
The World
The world.
It resides in winter. A winter of fire.
Hot and bright. Cold and dark. Everywhere and nowhere.
Silence prevails above the infinite noise. The terrible silence of apathy. It hides at the edges of speech. And behind the eyes.
Eyes and ears are closed.None will ever know and see but a few. The few cannot overcome except the world realizes. And the world is them. They are the world.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Yay Fantasy
Could our world use some more magic?
I just finished reading Don Quixote by Cervantes, and it brought up this question for me. In case you haven't heard of it, the book is about a man in medieval Spain who goes mad and runs around pretending to be a knight. Truthfully, there is much more to it than that, but I don't want to give it away for anyone. Anyway, the main character Don Quixote always blames anything he can't explain on enchanters.
It's been making me think about how plain our world is. Why can't we all just be crazy? Everyone needs an adventure every now and then. Let's all band together and be awesome heroes that do amazing things.
I just finished reading Don Quixote by Cervantes, and it brought up this question for me. In case you haven't heard of it, the book is about a man in medieval Spain who goes mad and runs around pretending to be a knight. Truthfully, there is much more to it than that, but I don't want to give it away for anyone. Anyway, the main character Don Quixote always blames anything he can't explain on enchanters.
It's been making me think about how plain our world is. Why can't we all just be crazy? Everyone needs an adventure every now and then. Let's all band together and be awesome heroes that do amazing things.
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