Den of the Cyphered Wolf

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Sorrow, Sorrow

I wail on the walls of my life
Sorrow Sorrow
On the outside there is no strife
But inward Scars and marks
of failure desolation and loneliness lie on my red beating heart
Where to start?
Where did it end?
Alone Alone

Where to begin?
Shall I bear my sins.
Where is God?
Is it that I feel his absence.
Is that what pains me
There is a God, I know but a sign there is no
I live day to day
Just trying to make my way
But that is not enough
what else what else.

Why am I so sad
There is nothing I see that is bad
At least in my realm
In the controlled
But outside of these walls
I Fear I fear

I hear the horsemens' hooves but their trumpets are silent
All within is violent
Despite it all the world must go on and will
And I with it
where is my place within it
I don’t know I don’t know

I wait
Why wait
move damn it move
The world moves while I lie still and silent in the corners
watching the mirth and the blood run
laugh you they tell me
and I do

I laugh

but at night my knees held to my chest I cry not for them
but for me
and my uncertainty
what to do what to do

“What am I” I scream
And then in the darkness my lips curl upward in a terrible way
I am the beast
The wild thing forgotten
Living only now not then only now
I live to laugh as all is done on earth as it is in hell
and Not even God seems to care

Where is he within me
Where is God within Man
Within me Within Me

I though I had a priestly nature
Kind and pensive
But I have lost all thought
I refuse to look back
To look forward

Now Now
You don’t have character until you know regret
I know regret
Is that why I sorrow
For the things I should have done
People I should have helped
Things I should have said
Questions I should have asked
Now Now

The past is gone
I can never get it back
atone atone

Its not the fate of my soul I fear
But the former states of my mind

To face not only the deeds of wickedness I have committed
But the deeds of Honor I have failed to make
And Amends can not be made all there is to do is regret
And wonder will the opportunity to stand ever come again
Never Never
Perhaps that is why I have sorrow

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