The Grind

The quiet ones are quiet ones
Since all we do is
Think about the world at large
And watch the other
People always come and go
With their own
Situations often causing pain
Will fill our eyes with
Tears of joy are beautiful
And should be life’s true
Focus on the journey and
Forget the
Destination will come fast enough
Without our constant
Fear is overwhelming and
It feels like we are
Sinking in a storm of storms
In life’s continued
Reign of terror just destroys
The vision of our
Future comes without our call
And ends what’s in our
Passed the point of no return
Our thoughts will cease to
Be a quiet one and watch
The pointless grind of life.

*written/posted in 2012, when I first attempted writing…that’s my excuse

Death Becomes You

I lie awake always dreading sleep,
For in the morn waking daymares creep.
And He will come to stalk me then;
The Reaper summons me to His den.

“Come to me,” His voice does call,
“I’ll bring you peace from one and all.”
“Take my hand and follow me,
Into darkness, painlessly.”

“But what of hope and love and joy?” I cry,
To the beast my eyes not dry,
“Won’t the seeker find what’s sought…
Happiness given to those who wrought!?”

He smiles His smile so innocently,
Seeing what I cannot see.
“Always know, this truth be true,
My eyes see, death becomes you.”

So, reluctantly, I take His hand;
My mind now weak, my body can’t stand.
With my tool I surrender to He,
No longer living in misery.

*written/posted in 2012, when I first attempted writing…that’s my excuse