Carcinogen Serenity

And I...I Took The One Less Travelled By

2006-08-11T15:12:00.000-07:00

Is it so hard to actually pat someone on the back and say: "hey! you're doing a pretty good job!"
Well I guess it is, for some people, while for others it is all they know how to do...
I once lashed out in a fit of hormonal imbalance that the world would never be fit for me, I was too nice for it, and the rest of the bullcrap commonly associated with me. But what I apparently keep forgetting is that once I'm out there, I'm all alone. My demons are mine to bear, and my woes should not concern anyone else, they all have too many of their own, why add mine to that great sag?
But then again, one too many times have I held a sobbing shaking soul, broken down to boot, yelling their anguish out into my ear...
I held the phone to my ear, I read it off the screen, I made myself come to terms with the fact that, yes, you may continue to give more than you can, but the devils they harbour are never going to leave them alone, and if you carry on being the beast you are being, you might one day, become one of these demons.
So the million dollar question: What do I do?

I? I take the road less travelled by, and that will make all the difference...

Yes, once again, I end up letting you go do as you please, while I cling on for dear life, never once pondering what is to become of me, should I lose my grip on the slippery handle I so firmly chose to cling on to...

Century

2006-08-08T15:51:00.000-07:00

The sun will dawn again today
It shall never forget its way
It'll shine on you forever and forevermore
Upto you to catch the ray
Winding, curling, longer routes
Of sympathy and favour bouts
Of the legend of the irksome lore
Among caustic smokes and bitter shouts
Stand there and wait for me
Guard my precious birch tree
And let me know when it's a bore
And you fail to see what i can see
Winding curling longer routes
Of sympathy and favour bouts
Of the legend of the irksome lore
Among last punches and knock-outs
I thought I could hear you weep
Your shadowy silhouette would creep
Creep along the painful sore
From whence you came, into which I seep
Woe beholds the century
Woe beholds the century
Ecstasy of many a shore
But woe beholds the century

Victim of Assault

2006-06-08T20:09:00.000-07:00

Tantalized and mesmerized, and sanity?
Carry on asking, you ask for a vanity
In this long run that I endured
It's all compartmentalized profanity
It's an error carried forward yet lied about
It's a will too strong a heart too stout
It's the rise of me that was ensured
What else could come of this winding route?
You long for me and you make it short
Your cunning of the swindling sort
You'll get what you want and you will be cured
Your testimony is imperative in my court
I rose above you and let you cry
I feigned a longing in every sigh
I drove myself up High Wall road
But not for you O little fry
Rise above it and face you clean?
Shake you and shout just to vent my spleen?
You got me wrong little one, my sword
You have yet to see what my eyes have seen