dead.

Death and death in which I do not know

What is life has to offer that it has not shown

A shadow of what is me and if not, I will rise and shine like no other has done

I am weak, I am strong, and I am all what is in-between

I see and feel the end is near; the forbidden love has killed me

I can not hide though I am here; I hover over the shadows of the sad yester year

I grace over and over the books and read love is no but a myth of fate

My fate is vein it is deep and dark, clear and horror I can not hold back

I don’t know if I can come close to it enough

It shines too bright I am blinded with it

I am covered in rain as I flout away, slowly and surly I cry my good tears

They come along not knowing what if

It is happy to show I am strong in the end

Evil Hero (part 1)

Part 1: Understanding the Devil

No, I’m not insane. Take your emotions out of the equation, think rationally, think with no heart.

Before I start writing, I looked up the definition of a hero, though many; the definition that feeds my goal can be summed as someone who fights for a cause. Not necessarily a good cause, a positive kind, genuine cause, but a cause nor good or bad.

A hero can be a person who fights for what they believe in, whither it is against your better belief. A hero can  be someone who achieves the impossible task of power. Power is corrupt, money is evil, power is corrupt. The struggle of any human to the top of the hierarchy is a heroic act of it’s won. Why? Because they have faced the demons of life, or reality, or metal emotion, or society. They scrapped the crap off toilets, and had their faces scraped with crap. They lived in poverty, they walked barefoot. Despite all evils of life they swerved, took a U turn into power. Not beautifying their actions, but admiring the wit of evil to commit anything.

They gambled with souls, they puzzled innocence. There was no force of evil more evil, ever inhabiting the earth other than Adolf Hitler. Before we get into analysis of the character of a monster, let’s state some facts that do quality as odd defying odds categorized as an accomplishment. Each evil hero came pushed though the odds of:

1. Dysfunctional family (abandoned by father/mother), abusive step-parent.
2. Abused, tarnished mother.
3. Poor and/or Poverty stricken.
4. Educational disputes (leave school, bullied, etc), rejected from Educational institute.
5. Homeless, struggling in early adult life.

Through my struggle to understand the human fate I realize that the evil are the most passionate and emotional struggling with their own emotions coming with the pain of the past and justifying a place in the present and future proving their capabilities to those who doubted and laughed.

Shadow

The shadow of my eyes holds the dealings of wake less nights where I slept no more. The memories of pain settled upon my shadows as they escaped the cells of my memory and the skin of my forehead to speak under the shadow lurking as a subtle reminder of kin. What have I done to mend no heart and to speak no laughter? I am the child of god, bear into the harsh realities of reality. My shadows have beautifully flourished the tire of my intellect thought. I gasp to cover the found shadows of the face of the eye of what is me. I agree to adopt the shadows will; only to own my deals I have made in this so called life. This shadow was before a haunting creature of no features, no face, no feeling, and no soul. A blank circle around and around it went. It followed the unwilling to steal the daylight upon an invite to the night. It was friendly with the night; it stayed active and alive circling me like a cloud of grey rain.

The question of why.

Why does greatness die young, evil dies old.

Why does good hurt, and bad laugh.

Why do dreamers want it all, yet get nothing. Slacker get everything, yet wanting nothing.

Why does love leave when love is a peak of selfless passion.

Why does family hate you when you love them most.

Why are you abandoned at the door when your bleeding?

There are many more questions cruising through memories of a history book lost in the dust of time.

Why do the tear drops of the green eyes go unnoticed by the wavers of the hazel cold lover, gone with the wind of eternity. Never to come back, her eyes froze in time, soul released from ceasur.  Telling the tale of dripping ache.

N.A.

Decay

I blame you for the decay, the chipping away. The led that seems through, the pounds of drums syncing through the peddles, vibrating across the rivers. Leafs vane a story of puzzling game. Enigma was the theory of the creator in mind. The plays play out wonders of drama; sarcastic laughing of the century crackled by thee. I grow, with my eyes circling the motion silence around me too loud to listen to, too low to hear. The story was too bright to see, the scenes too dark to recognize. An army of water circled my eyes, ready to attack the battled fields of puples dried of grin. The lines of the facade I call face gloomed down, sunk deep into a cave of hiding.

Fuzz covered the realism, reality was blunt. Reson was on vacation and brain was frozen. Emotion silented, handcuffed my soul. Round up the laughter, all gone. The legs keep walking a vage line not directed by though, or a train of plans…just a line. A line that ran though every crack, circled every cloud, and ducked every bullet.