I darest think my soul as black,
That my eyes seek evil,
Or my fingers lust for pain
I hunt for enlightenment
Under every rock
Behind every tree
Down by the brook
I try to encounter upon myself
To uncover my skin and dive into my soul
Finding out my own secretes
Trying to discover who I am
I pursue my own mind.
And I like to think I found what I was looking for,
Things now have color,
The sky is blue and the grass is starting to look greener
On my side of the fence…
And yet, everything I write is shaded in grey.
It has become an inescapable part of me
I try desperately to fill the page with words of love
Colors that I now see;
But everything I inscribe is dragged into darkness.
Have I spent too long of my life in the shadows?
Is there no escape for the curse
I bestowed upon myself?
Why? I do not know, but for now
My only outlet for feelings is being bogged
With words of lust, hatred of myself,
I try to stop my fingers but they have yet
To yield to my plea
So for now, I will start my poem:
There once was a lost soul,
It is still lost,