Saturday, June 30, 2012

Filled With Empty

I am nothing
Bound up
Held within a shell
A personal hell
My flesh decays
Inside
A living black hole
All my thought and dream
Sucked down the pipe
Spewed out into oblivion
The blackness
The dark
The dead flesh is ripe
And my fetid remains
Sink down into
Mania
Sorrow
Fear
Emptiness
Alone
In pain
Fighting tears
Fleeing fate
The hollow
The daze
I remember life
This is not it
This is a life betrayed


"There is no worse sickness for the soul,
O you who are proud,
than this pretense of perfection.
The heart and eyes must bleed a lot
before self-complacency falls away."
Rumi