If I'm not available it either means that I am indisposed conjuring up new works poetry or than I've taken a brief momentary break in order to regroup myself.
Many should know that in this life, no one needs to surrender unto anyone or anything but yet sadly so many do. Although I do not because there is a fire that burns within me, that I alone keep a lit. By hoping that I can overcome the impossible odds and by believing there is light over the darkened horizon. Also by finding strength in my weaknesses, so I am able to overcome the obstacles of difficulties and challenges that I face along my uncertain journey's path to which I walk alone. There is no one that understands who I am truly or the struggles that I have faced every day or how broken I truly am on the inside. And there isn't anyone who cares how truly defiant I am against such opposing opposition. And the time has come where I am deep in contemplation here in the quiet lonesome still hours only accompanied by my haunting memories and the echoes of my painful past when suddenly a chilling thought has crossed my mind...
I've come to realize that I have grown so weary and oh so tired of always clinging onto all of my miseries, misfortune, and tragedies of my yesteryears. Thusly I do believe that I am now ready to finally exhale my last breath and prepared to say goodbye to this sweet world of sorrow, so that way I will not have to endure through any more troublesome tomorrows. Heck, I am ready to embrace the mere fact that there is a possibility of a new life to which I can live that has no misery or pain whatsoever. That can only begin when I willingly shed my mortal coils it would be at that moment that I could truly live again renewed without any woes or demons to drag me into the bleak abyss of nihility....
But I will not go out of this shitty world that easily, branded as a yellow-bellied punk. Just because things got a bit unbearable and too hard to handle. For shit sakes, I'd rather go out of this world just the way I came in it, kicking, screaming and covered in somebody else's blood or at least of similar likeness. Yeah, I might be a damn soul that is cursed to be forced to live out my days miserable and unhappy but I'll do so with dignified pride because I am the unkillable defiant soulless martyr...
So, yet again I awaken to endure through another God-forsaken day, grudgingly I thought now have I or haven't I though. And in the midst of my routinely shit, shine and shave I found myself gazing strangely into the hazy foggy mirror staring idly at my blurred self when suddenly I began to feel disgusted and saddened by the broken reflection of a shell of a man who I no longer recognize. It's almost like a ghastly ghostly wraith was looking back at me and he was shaking his head in shame and regret and probably thinking it's right about now that I need a hell lot more than a single guardian angel to be sent down to help me out. Cause the first one wasn't formidable enough against all the hordes of demons that had burrowed themselves inside my heart and soul long ago. Thusly that is why I've regrettably concluded that my guardian angel must have had its angelic light snuffed out by all my demons. For fuck sakes, I swear for the longest time I hadn't had a clue or was unaware that I had dug my own grave or had an inkling that I had buried myself but for some unknown apparent reason, I was only halfway in my own grave because the other half of me was trying to claw its way out all the while the demons were trying to drag me back to the bottomless fiery depths of hell...
Oh, how I have grown so weary and tiresome of this world of bittersweet sorrowful joyful miserable tragedy. There have been so many of my yesteryears that were filled with agony and anguish along with an ungodly amount of chapters of goodbyes so much that I have lost count. I have clung too fiercely onto the cynical hope of a better tomorrow or of a finding a decent human being amongst this shitty hellhole of a world that God has seemed to have forgotten about. So after careful consideration and contemplation, I am ready to let bygones be bygones and pardon myself from the transgressions done unto me by so many others and vice versa, therefore, I can finally take my last breath without any burdens to weigh me down. And with a semi-clear conscience, it is then that I have a better understanding of knowing that the only way my new painless joyful life can begin anew is not long after I am to shed my mortal coils. And therefore if I do so I will be relieved to know that not a single demon will be able to ever get the chance to try and maliciously drag me down to the depths of hell anymore...
But I refuse to go out of this asshole infested world that easily branded as a two-bit coward who gave up so quickly just because life became a tad bit too difficult to continue enduring through. For the love of blood guts and gore, I'd rather go out of this world the way I came in it, kicking, screaming and covered in someone else's blood or at least of similar likeness. Sure, I might be a damn soul that is cursed to live out the remainder of my days that are miserable and unhappy as well as filled with a constant and consistent amount of sheer agony and anguish but I live them out with prideful dignity because I know that am the unkillable defiant soulless martyr...
As the day turns into night, I find myself oddly hunkered down on a footlocker loading rounds into my clip then loading the clip into my rifle and then double-checking my gear. Then suddenly I find myself calling my unit into my tent for a mission debriefing then as we screamed, "Semper Fi, Ooh-rah!" I strangely but yet comfortably found myself once again staring into the eyes of my fellow forsaken and damned brethren. Then all the sudden the next thing I knew our units darkened night was abruptly lit up with exchanging tracers and the eerie silence of it was broken with the horrifying screams of the dying. Then out of nowhere I felt a sheer burning sensation burrowing a hole into my chest as the warmth of my blood spewed forth from the wound and suddenly I found myself clinging to life, while in the midst of facing a scenario of certain death of he or me to die, although it would be he who would meet his unfortunate untimely horrific demise at the hands of me. When suddenly I awoke from what I thought was a nightmare but instead I found myself comforted by the realization that I had a bloodlust for war, and how I long to once more engage in the ritualistic barbaric brutal carnage of combat once more. But alas I cannot! Because even though it is such a worthy idealistic notion it is also a foolish one. Merely due to the fact I, this weapon that was forged by the Marines to serve his country has finally been decommissioned and placed back into the armory to gather dust. It is times like this where I seriously contemplate whether or not I should take another breath to live out another purposeless day in this miserable lonesome life of mine...
All of this to which I have mentioned in this poem is why I have become so hopeless and weary. And oddly enough it is misery, sadness, hopelessness, tragedy and sorrow are all the truest of sentimental emotions to which I have clung ever so tightly to merely because they are the most real of any and all feelings of which I've ever felt throughout my life. Due to all of my yesteryears being filled with chapters upon chapters of endlessly predictable but yet unpredictable goodbyes has caused a rift in the fabric of my understanding of humanity. So, therefore, every day I am forced to breathe another breath and live one more uncertain day knowing that I am must embrace the unattainable dream of ever being actually happy or ever finding true love again. For these are the reasons why I have come to the conclusion that maybe I should take my last breath so that maybe I might be able to actually rid myself of all of these agonizing sufferings and of this miserable anguish I constantly feel. So there afterward I might be able to live in harmonious contentment with all that I've been through...
So, am I to believe that I first must shed my mortal coils in order to truly be able to obtain said ideals of being able to live freely without any woes or pain? That is such absurdity! But nonetheless, this mare's nest is and has been a profounding question that has arisen in my subconscious on a regular basis continuously plaguing my logic and emotions. And because of this conundrum is perilously discombobulating it is unable to be answered or solved, ergo it has caused a war to erupt from within. And sadly my heart and soul are the battlefields to which logic and emotion wage their senseless and needless war on...
And because I refuse to go out of this god-forsaken shitty hellhole of an inhumane world branded as one of the multitudes of yellow-bellied punk ass cowards who easily just gives up on everything. I rather instead go out of this world on my own terms, meaning I'll go out the way I came in it, kicking, screaming and covered in somebody else's blood or at least of similar facsimile…
And if I am forced to live out the remainder of my miserable unfortunate hopeless lonesome days as an eternally damned soul that is cursed, I will do so as a dignified prideful unkillable defiant soulless martyr. That all the world seems to constantly stare in shocking disbelief while making a mockery out of me. But little do they all know it is I who is actually on the outside of their cages, staring at what appears to be quite a few crazed damn near extinct scapegoats that are imprisoned in what appears to be a zoo-like insane asylum prison of sorts that they've built themselves…
It is oddly somewhat strange and hard for me to believe or even grasp the realization that instead of being the dignified prideful unkillable defiant soulless martyr I am actually the; An comme il faut, inculpable, undying, contumacious, hardened, battle born soulless individualist unsung forsaken lone hero rather than a martyr like everyone else seems to be...
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Author:
Esoteric Ghostwriter (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: May 31st, 2017 10:06
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem depicts many emotions and many metaphors in regards to depression, loneliness and the struggles to which many of us face on a daily basis. But secretively keep to ourselves and act as though we are impervious to such perils and misfortunate tragedies. So suggestively is probably a good idea if one should read this poem a tad bit more thoroughly with an open mind and perspective. That way they might have a far better understanding of the true concept of all the metaphorical enigmatic ambiguous turn of phrases that I use throughout this poem. Rather than drawing a precise and firm conclusion that I am merely nothing more than a lonely deranged mentally ill neurotic madman who is so gravely depressed that he is borderline suicidal. But to clarify I do admit that I am a lonely deranged neurotic madman but however I am NOT borderline suicidal in any sort of way whatsoever!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 56
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