Poems and stuff.

Aunt Cyn came down yesterday to see mom and I with Uncle John and Katie Jo. Yáya didn’t come down with them, though. =(

I wrote two poems just before they arrived. One is a fictional account, loosely based on my RPG character, and the other is a bit more autobiographical. I wrote both while sitting inside the downstairs nursery of my mom’s church, which is odd for three reasons: 1) I don’t normally go to church, 2) I’ve never been struck by inspiration in church and 3) the subject matter of the first poem.

Anyway, here they both are. Enjoy.

Purgatory

Bathed in the blood of crimes unforgiven
I give naught but what was once mine
A history of lies and death follow me
Sealed within the hands of time
Condemned to a fate worse than death
The light to me now forever lost
As I am driven to steal the blood of life
In the sea of self-loathing I am tossed

Forgotten to all and even to myself
I dwell within my self-made hell
Will I find the salvation for which I’ve striven?
The simple truth is only time may tell

Balancing Act

Poetry is an outlet given to me only
So I may fortell my intentions
From the depths of my soul come to light
This form of self-expression

Woven into delicate verse
Is the source of my passion and drive
For I cannot say such in my reality
And the music of rhyme keeps me alive

Within the confines of pen and paper
I question all that may be
I hope, I wonder, I dream, I pray
Of what lies ahead for me

Such thoughts are not to be voiced
For such is my forcéd pact
And so in my life I conceal my thoughts
Performing my balancing act

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Mostly, I write stuff. And, like the Egyptians and the Internet, I put cat pictures on my walls. Also, I can read your Tarot.