He waits...
·
By the lonely empty street,
Pass the last in row of weak flickering street lamps,
He waits for someone.
Driven to desperation.
His mind has wondered far beyond any other,
To the ends of his worn-out soul,
But mysteriously winding up at the same dead end.
He ponders.
Stripping his heart down for answers that he himself cannot provide.
On a never-ending search for reasons beyond doubt.
His heart withers, strained, writhing from the heart ache.
The burning within, too much to take.
But he refuses to bow his head down,
Instead he finds comfort in the pain.
To choose regret over disappointment.
He would never adhere to.
Others tell him to give up, to let go.
But his stubborn soul refuses to let up.
They tell him that loving might be a mistake
We all make mistakes.
Do not let some hell-bent heart leave him bitter.
When one door closes, one more opens.
He doesn’t buy.
Standing alone, he allows the pain to wash over him.
She strips him down to nothingness.
The object of desire.
She grips his heart like a vice.
He chokes and gasps for air.
She stabs him,
He grabs her velvety hands in his.
The blood like a silky red ribbon trickling down.
He begs for acceptance.
The blade inches deeper into his flesh.
He grimaces in pain and looks into her eyes for the slightest bit of hope.
But there is none but a cold hard gaze.
How I wish I could walk through the doors of his mind.
Free him from tragedy that has engulfed his weary soul.
To see him smile, feel the warmth from deep within.
But now it seems so out of reach.
So I just watch from a distance,
Occasionally shining a beacon of light on him.
Watch as he fades away into the corners of his mind.
Lost in a world of thoughts…
Pass the last in row of weak flickering street lamps,
He waits for someone.
Driven to desperation.
His mind has wondered far beyond any other,
To the ends of his worn-out soul,
But mysteriously winding up at the same dead end.
He ponders.
Stripping his heart down for answers that he himself cannot provide.
On a never-ending search for reasons beyond doubt.
His heart withers, strained, writhing from the heart ache.
The burning within, too much to take.
But he refuses to bow his head down,
Instead he finds comfort in the pain.
To choose regret over disappointment.
He would never adhere to.
Others tell him to give up, to let go.
But his stubborn soul refuses to let up.
They tell him that loving might be a mistake
We all make mistakes.
Do not let some hell-bent heart leave him bitter.
When one door closes, one more opens.
He doesn’t buy.
Standing alone, he allows the pain to wash over him.
She strips him down to nothingness.
The object of desire.
She grips his heart like a vice.
He chokes and gasps for air.
She stabs him,
He grabs her velvety hands in his.
The blood like a silky red ribbon trickling down.
He begs for acceptance.
The blade inches deeper into his flesh.
He grimaces in pain and looks into her eyes for the slightest bit of hope.
But there is none but a cold hard gaze.
How I wish I could walk through the doors of his mind.
Free him from tragedy that has engulfed his weary soul.
To see him smile, feel the warmth from deep within.
But now it seems so out of reach.
So I just watch from a distance,
Occasionally shining a beacon of light on him.
Watch as he fades away into the corners of his mind.
Lost in a world of thoughts…
Sihan
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