Well all those Emo threads have finally done it. I was inspired to-ack- write a poem.
Well, to be honest, this deals more with..ehm..''angst'' then it does feeling sorry for myself. But they must be all the same.
I may speak against Emos, but I imagine that if I were younger, I would probably be one. How sad.
Well then, all you Emo haters (That includes me, incidentally.) allow me to disappoint you all with my new ''spur of the moment I hate the world'' poem.
And no, this does not bear any ulterior meaning, I do not want to kill myself or any such thing; it is just a poem.
Also, I did not quite know where to put this thread, so should it not be in the right place, please feel free to move it, of course.
And, in order to motivate anyone to actually read this, anyone who finds the hidden Final Fantasy IV quote in the poem gets free Soylent Green cookies!
Regression
I step forth, a veil of sorrow,
I look to the North, with no hope for the morrow
No inspiration from resolution
I see the people light their fire,
I see only the steeples of a fate so dire
In the void of adversity, illuminating aimless sympathy!
I wear the veil of sorrow, aware of the chagrin they borrow
Black of the North, away from the heralded angels that step forth
Never a solution for the thousand faces of destruction!
Crystal tears of hollow sentiment for the wretched with fears and resentment!
Seek to render asunder the skies!
The hatred to rage on until all dies!
I'll not be blind to the organized chaos which forever binds.
When the filthy black shadow so grotesquely destroy innocence,
They false to cure the woe, without honesty to the consequence
The scars they shred and wound, but with insistence,
They wed with the Moon, and condemn with false deliverance!
Be it no wonder then, they become estranged from man,
Disappear with forever dread, to some forgotten pier where even the angels dare not to tread.
Keep your lobotomy and keep your justice!
Such sodomy relieves not the state of crisis!
The truth of fear bears no comprehension
From your uncouth leer there holds no compassion!
From such a mask, the truth is observed so fast, presented as such a proud and tall mast
Should I tell you then!
That such as a lost phantom vessel, struggle all you can!
On a raging storm of pain you travel blindly!
Justification born, from your rotten bowels you plea!
For fire, a fate so dire...
Your soothing in wait, I am thrust into your quagmire...
Should I let you know?! Of our predestined woe!
Are you aware of how a falcon is to train?
His eyes are sown shut, so that he bares like a straight cut,
As sulken Rain!
I see you, your self pity is all that you see as true
The black of the North, no light to blind me as I walk forth
No fires, which to make the truth as fallen empires
I see this mess and I regress
Organized chaos, yet such emptiness
Malady spreads like a blanket of worms
Death and decay and dread at a banquet, it squirms!
Naught to do but await the Reaper,
Then know that all stand at the Gate as the meeker
Blood and fire, heartless massacre of every empire!
Never a reason, merely false justification,
As mindless as a story book vampire!
Rip them all asunder, with sarcasm I surrender
No pity for the poor, no mercy for the weak, no true aid from trauma
Only hope gone sore, like piss your lies they leak, all you made is a drama!
Values you create, from the scourge of war your guilt you liberate
Betrayal, lies and deceit, always ignore those who weep
Like fair maidens your tears they fall, you have no control, but are surrounded by a wall
Abide thy helpless truth, glide not with lie upon thy tooth!
Seek not to heal thy soul, mask not with your tongue thy role!
The seeds of hope are but dead in my hand,
The weeds of hate are led before I stand
So helpless and worthless, must I bear such desolate madness?
Do I behold the truth, or am I as the rest?
Such awareness, of all who brood in their nest?
But whom as pest screech to the rest,
With their tainted speech,
As blood upon my breast!
I bear the pain of being so weak and lost,
Away from those whose realization as garbage they have tossed.
An endless storm of confusion, with its illusions and manipulation destroys all reason.
Away to the North I walk, the others can simply balk
Away from rainbow and blinding light,
I accept my woe, and finding night,
Feel at peace when the words of those who claim to own me cease,
From lies like grease, and free as well from chain,
I embrace release
A blackened corner of the Earth, I shall weave my dread,
Awaiting not a rebirth, I will to cleave all those who dare to tread
Regression in the darkness away from malice
To accept my heartless state, I drink the truth as if blood from a chalice,
Made of human bone and human life,
In desolation and regression I shall make my home,
And never again wonder why.
2007/Gisèle
Regression.
Linear Mode
