2200
Suffocation and exasperation.
Two of the main things I can't exaggerate.
Under a thick cloud of smoke and debris.
Disbelief has gotten the best of me.
This life I once called beauty has now captured me.
Wrapped me into a ball of catastrophe.
Consumed me and used me.
Chewed me and abused me.
But still I see small hope illumining me.
The depths of my soul burn with rage.
Even hell couldn't contain this gaze.
It will get better is what I keep sayin'.
Keeping the faith and positivity.
Spiritually, mentally and emotionally.
So I write..
I write to escape the world.
The reality of this realm that has to be endured.
False hope is what I fear.
But I still refuse to shed anymore tears.
Wasted energy and wasted time.
Why continue to lose strife am I that blind?.
Lost in my own damn mind.
It is what it is I'm sick of trying.
No matter the obstacles or illusions of a stained optical.
I will continue in this storm until it becomes optional.
A tisk or tat.
This or that.
Good or bad.
Questions only the ultimate can mask.
But still I write..
Beautiful inside just as on the out.
Unsure of the choices I've made.
Living in doubt.
These are the thoughts that will help me out.
Reality is real.
No trying to escape what cannot be fulfilled.
Just continue with this fight.
I will over come this.
Just have to use all of my might.
End.
