A Life Better Told
A bitterness is better described as a melancholy of the living. Paving a way for sadness which won’t due, something that I couldn’t resist in the past life. I wish it was never there yet the tide of time won’t let me rest a bit. Such a crude and mundane way of living akin to a snake trying to survive each month. It doesn’t have to make sense albeit I do sometimes misunderstand it as something else. Didn’t life even matter after all? What would it take to understand this hollow and emptiness filled inside my heart, yet you cruelly take everything from me. What a drag, at least I could get a glimpse of your expression when you stab the knife to my heart. Wouldn’t it be great if the afterlife wasn’t as boring as the life itself? Would you even forgive me if you did remember?
A sweet scent of honey is what it takes to share the bitterness I had. Flame and ice is nowhere near as hot or cold nor it is as significant. I guess the life itself demands stranger things from me. Whether it is true or false no matter what it’s never quite clear what in the hell am I doing. Stripped bare from my possession I’m everything now, might as well be a God, despite the blasphemy it would bring to the fate of humanity itself. Why would you even care? Lest you try to humor me about a time and story that is irrelevant to the causality your kind bring upon. Is it wrath? Or I guess it is misery that defines the hell of so-called society. In other words, just another excuse of an expression to describe banality.
Maybe time could erase the trace you have left behind in my world. Maybe death is what it takes to separate the happiness and the sadness. Maybe I’m not supposed to write it off to the walls as something abstract, a fucking mess of doodles worth for an art gallery. No, it’s too good to be true, yet it feels so real, yet it feels so calm, what have you done to my inner being? As if brought to the deepest level of ignorance, I was revived just to taste the foul breath of the forsaken one. Haven’t you had enough with this joke? How can I satisfy you? Let me breath for a while, it’s not like I’m the only one in your possession. Have you ever tried the taste of your own urine? It sucks, I’ll tell you that.
The time and space is a giant durdle of conundrum sucking the emptiness of our kind, perhaps until the time gets too bored to even breath. I do find it amusing that a joy can be found amidst the ruin of the pathetic living thing of this world. Yet I can’t understand the reason of your existence. It is such a necessity for the people to be brought into certain justice known as the nether end, the MU, the purgatory, the silent fucking hill. Rest in piece instead of peace, a fate fitting for the like of us, tormenting souls awaiting for salvation. A wait in vain. A closing remarks from the emptiness, may you join us through the journey of the living. It’s not such a bad place if you can just open your mind.
A sweet scent of honey is what it takes to share the bitterness I had. Flame and ice is nowhere near as hot or cold nor it is as significant. I guess the life itself demands stranger things from me. Whether it is true or false no matter what it’s never quite clear what in the hell am I doing. Stripped bare from my possession I’m everything now, might as well be a God, despite the blasphemy it would bring to the fate of humanity itself. Why would you even care? Lest you try to humor me about a time and story that is irrelevant to the causality your kind bring upon. Is it wrath? Or I guess it is misery that defines the hell of so-called society. In other words, just another excuse of an expression to describe banality.
Maybe time could erase the trace you have left behind in my world. Maybe death is what it takes to separate the happiness and the sadness. Maybe I’m not supposed to write it off to the walls as something abstract, a fucking mess of doodles worth for an art gallery. No, it’s too good to be true, yet it feels so real, yet it feels so calm, what have you done to my inner being? As if brought to the deepest level of ignorance, I was revived just to taste the foul breath of the forsaken one. Haven’t you had enough with this joke? How can I satisfy you? Let me breath for a while, it’s not like I’m the only one in your possession. Have you ever tried the taste of your own urine? It sucks, I’ll tell you that.
The time and space is a giant durdle of conundrum sucking the emptiness of our kind, perhaps until the time gets too bored to even breath. I do find it amusing that a joy can be found amidst the ruin of the pathetic living thing of this world. Yet I can’t understand the reason of your existence. It is such a necessity for the people to be brought into certain justice known as the nether end, the MU, the purgatory, the silent fucking hill. Rest in piece instead of peace, a fate fitting for the like of us, tormenting souls awaiting for salvation. A wait in vain. A closing remarks from the emptiness, may you join us through the journey of the living. It’s not such a bad place if you can just open your mind.
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