the other side

Tears in the darkness of rain 11


Loneliness can never escape my mind; it does not console, nor blanket me,

With regret I fall into a place of sheer regret, of no hope, an of the heart that does not mend my life,

I am at a stand still, reading psalms, is with compassion, and I cry,

My tears shelter nothing, this mean less life I was born to lead, and live I have not done,

I walk into fear of love an it’s gift, of it’s passion that does not hold my heart in its hand’s,

I stand in sorry, as I look outside never in,

Cry my tears I have done,

Clocks cruelty is in the eye of my beholder, I contemplate my on wall that covers me, shielding my face of sorry,

I no longer chase dreams, wish for the demons to vacate my soul,

Alone in a corner I kneel on my knee’s,

Be still my thoughts, for they scare me, I cry out loud, insanity turns my pages,

Hands cover my ears, so that the beaten of my own heart does not frighten me, the image of me cause’s nightmare’s,

My fetal position keeps me locked up inside, so I am,

A wall is built,

Surrender I have given, without question,

I am the reader of past present and future,

Into the empty arms of my palm I grasp this life, my life,

I crawl back into infancies, as to not face my own mirror,

Screams from my voice plagues this existence,

I repeat to myself, do not cry for me, for I am not here nor there,

Ashes to ashes my minister repeat’s,

Life is not meant for me, alone I am to be,

An a place is held for me,

I see so clear grandma’s rocking chair, so true , a comfort she is, so innocent, I weep, an my own tears are not formed,

They do not reflect my cries, tears repeat themselves again an again,

An through that, tears in the darkness of rain entrap my soul,

My inner self can only say, I will fear know evil, for your love is with me,
Repeating this verse in a whisper, I do not close my eyes, in harm I see, of me,

When the sunset I hide, shelter longer protects this haven,


The risen sun bring’s my light in, I wish with thought,

Cry for me I pray, the sanity of self is more then I can over come,

Clock’s ticking of minutes or my hour glass of self as, as the days an weeks still hold no meaning for me,

With tears I beg,

A restricted soul I bare,