More poems. Thats kinda my thing.
One rarely considers the end.
It simply rushes forth when least expected.
Embraces you with cold clammy hands.
And though there may seem to be fight still left...
If the time has arrived,
Heralded by the heavy shadow of Thanatos,
Passing over, with wings of darkness,
Life will willingly release its hold,
And the soul will gently be guided away,
One may consider the after.
When wonder, O wonder has made beautiful the simple,
And imagination, boundless imagination brings time surging forward,
As Compassion, kind compassion makes a child and elder equal,
And peace, and war, sees one man end and man another thrive;
This is what makes one human.
Summer smiles bright with shining radiance,
Winter watches tiredly from afar,
Autumn calls forth all creatures of the forest,
Springtime sets the earth with life and joy.
Life is: an 80 20 split,
with 20 as the good stuff and 80 as the bad,
And life is: a lifelong gamble,
and you know your gonna lose but you have to keep playing,
Life is: your favourite fandom,
you thought the concept was cool, but you hated big decisions,
Life is not worth living,
but everyone who does wants to make the others suffer too.
A man writes a poem of life and loss,
Of searching and finding and pain.
And the world reads his poem, and it finds a deeper meaning.
But a boy writes a poem of hope and fear,
A heartfelt expression of emotion on a page.
And those around him read his poem,
And believe he is broken.
Skyward climes this mountain, of brightly polished stone,
And atop it's lofty peak, lies crown of glimmering gold.
The gods have blessed this place we stand,
So their hosts may journey on.
And deep inside the dark inner hold,
Lies the king of this beautiful land.
Rivers of gold,
and clouds with silver linings.
Sharp and brazen speech,
but cool stone,
and polished bone;
As skies of fire burn away all doubt,
And roughened earth flows away.
No. I am not suicidal.
