A caged sleep, tears shed, the thoughts of false caring that others portray is a lie. Their spitefulness in thought held captive the sleeping mind not allowing it to wake. There are those that cannot be trusted, they show concern for their own selves and their own greed. They are always on the prowl to take, take, and take. They cause pain to the minds of the blameless and find in it joy, their tongue of fire knows not the truth. Yet, they will ask you for your prayers, to engorge their own needs. If they touch your life, it will never be the same.
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Thieves, vagrants, gangs, satanic cults, catacombs beneath the streets a place where unsavory people meet. Ask the old man on the corner and he will say it is below the earth where evil lurks, as he smiles his face forms a smirk.
Rituals that are created straight out of hell, if you will stay long enough his story he will tell, then he will take you quickly to a doorway leading to hell. He will say, mind my word if you go down below the ground your body will have welts and scratches and you are surrounded by growling sounds.
Words of caution it may be fate, if you adventure out at night, ghosts are not the only thing lying in wait. If you poke fun at my story and go beneath the ground, you too may never be found.
Memories, the past has many doors to open, one could spend a lifetime in these corridors of time. Rooms bulging with stories good and bad; they rise to fill our minds with happiness, joy or sadness. Like soft petals falling to the ground, so does the memory of our life fall gently upon our hearts?
Lighting surges through a war of disrespectful words, tears descending, wet. In times of uncertainty, an unknown sadness is out of control, a smile, a gesture; or fear clings to a receptive body. Words may not bring rest or smiles, the soul deep within knows.
There is no one that can unlock the heart, nothing that can be said or felt. Thoughts, do not reveal or conceal, disguise the lack of sympathy, place blame and criticize. Alienate the voice, if only for one moment feel free. Fate, possession, strife, and life.
The genuine self, forced to obey, despite and un-regarded life blind to the hurt of others will embed hate eternally. The knowledge of life fire and force, walking down a rough path; deep pain. No spirit, hate has the power to control, nameless feelings that have conceded to a life unrepressed. Speak and act so no one will know hidden damage floating down to the soul.
The hidden self, inward strife and following demands; in return, a thousand nothings, all-miraculously give power. Hide in the depths of the soul; echo speaks of pain. Lackluster eyes stare, glare, and the words unspoken deafening creating fear. A bolt of tones, frightening, is piercing ears.
No feeling stirs, the heart laid plain, unaware of a life winding down, no meadows of flowers, no sun, no breeze, and the madness is elusive to all. No feeling, no respite. In quietness, the war of mocking words; the tears, the sadness. The thoughts of the sea, the crashing waves; soul and spirit sinking within its wet madness and always stay, stay, and stay.
Too late, love revealed itself in death, and the heart has nothing to say. Living and moving in disguises, alien, until the end. Life had nothing to possess, strife, identity. Blind, uncertainty, life no fire or restlessness, a thirst for the mystery of it all, nameless feelings lived in vain. The loss, the heart lay open for all to see, the hurt hidden twisted among the rubble of pain. Yet, after all that, there is tomorrow.