The following is a free-write, un-edited, just like life...take from it what you will. enjoy, ask questions, find answers, hell i don't know. Hate it if you want to, but at least read it. I hope that with every word i write in all of these post' i can at least inspire one person if not many. Those that have served beside me, i hope that you can relate to my feelings i express. I hope that you kind find a way to release the pain, hate, tears and feelings. We all have our own ways of doing it. But mine, i feel is a peaceful way and maybe an inspirational way. God bless all who have served and continue to serve. The man to your left and right is all you got! Take care of them, embrace who they are and love them for everything they aren't! enjoy!
All is fake
Your eyes bleed red, your heart bleeds black, your face turns, your back turns. Run, run, run. Run from your reality. Run from whatever you think is chasing you. Fall, fall, and plead for reality to leave, fall, and plead, for hope to come into play. Walk, walk away from your faith. Stand faithless, faithless in love, in hate, in yourself. What have you got remaining. Your heart is black and cold. Your eyes bleed red. Your skin no longer smooth, the rough surface of your skin tells a tail of death. Dark and cold, damp is your mind, no longer can you comprehend what is around you. What is around you? Love, happiness, trust, faith, money, people, people that you once held close. This turn of events crumble all you were, a pile of ashes you are lying in a puddle, that you once looked down upon to see your own face, take a look now, what do you see? Reflect on the past, plan for the future, all is lost what have you done, what has happened to you. Only you can answer the question that mystics often ask themselves. Chain yourself to a tree, to keep from doing any more damage to yourself and those around. You have ruined everything, the chains will only tighten, accept what is now and leave what was then behind, there is no present, your present just left and was handed over to the past. Future, what is it, do you have one, now that you have turned into this monster. A monster that can conquer any mystics soul and mind. Overwhelming, the pressure put upon your shoulders, but what is this what has caused this change, why are you a mound of ash? A mound of ash that the autumn season has blown around in the wind. Spread amongst your land, amongst those you loved, among the bum on the corner that asked you for change. Amongst those you once threw punches at, threw poignant words at. These words did the same to them as they have to you. Whose ashes do you have, whose ashes lye upon your shoulder? You are a failure you can’t handle reality and all that life throws out at you. You have been impaled by the spear of all that is real.
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