untitled

be i lucid in the last days of my solitude
will i pray to my comfort for tender mercies
then reminisce of many blessings bestowed
or with thoughts still proceeding from a sound mind
will i curse purpose and potential unfulfilled
without any solace from sorrow and regret
from the hopes and dreams of conception
to the contemplations at imminent death
will i recollect on a full life
lived with too little effect

five million gone

five million gone and even more are never to be.
what have we lost while we pretended not to see.
there are the friends that we will never have
and there is the wisdom that will never be passed.
there is the love that we will never receive
and countless possibilities that we can never achieve.
so as the great war continues on, let us all mourn,
for five million are already gone.

agonizing pathos

i lay immobilized
by the thought that i must suffer the day once more
surrounded by the normal who always demand normalcy
saddened by the pervasive acceptance of inhumanity
greatly pained by the mistakes of the masses
whose apathy shows great mercy for the merciless
i am still seeking hope in piousness and virtue
but i am solaced only by the dreams of my slumber
and yet the sleeper must continue to awaken
so knowing that i must start somewhere
i say GOOD MORNING!