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,

The End.



The End

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