Just another Manic Monday...

First and foremost, yes I know it is no longer Monday. O well.
Monday was stressful, thus why I waited until 7 o'clock in the morning to post.

So yea... No biggy.
I feel like this post could be told much like the tale of Alexander's No Good, Very Bad Day.

Meaning I could say, Monday was a bad day because blank, then blank THEN BLANK!!! But I can't do that. What I can do is say that I still have some work to do on my ability to not care about people's opinions. You can't win them all can you? I feel like I need to come to complete terms with that idea, then I will finally be able to mature past the way I let myself sink into a funk every time someone isn't happy with me.

I'm gonna do it...

So on a new subject, I really like metaphors and cruel ironies. I know that that's kind of a morbid thing to say, but today's writings really are a bit morbid.


Savage Desire

He couldn't get her off his mind,
she only seemed to haunt him.
The shadow of his recent past,
the dark never to be forgotten.

Every morning she's all he sees,
as he attempts to start again.
He wants nothing more than to reach for her,
for them to be more than friends.
He knows she isn't good for him,
that he should walk away.

But he'll never learn to live her down,
all he deserves is the pain she brings,
the thrill as she breaks skin.
He craves the rush,
he craves the thrill,
he wants her one more time.

There she sits.
Catching his eye.
Metal shining in the florescent dungeon.
It wouldn't take much to merge with her,
to take all she had to give.
All he can feel is the ice cold flood,
as he steals all that there is.  

Irony

Screaming words of ill fate 

for love,

Fighting wars for peace,

Staying up all night long,

trying to fall asleep. 

Wishing you could go home,

finding that's where you are,

Not wanting to be like everyone,

but trying not to stray far.

Believing you're in love,

with someone who's over you

Finding yourself to be in love,

with your own worst enemy.

Saying you're a rebel,

who fights without a cause,

Falling asleep just before,

you get to see the dawn.

Irony in every turn,

death for every life.

Simple things impossible,

a wrong for every right.

Forks in almost every road,

temptation pulling you astray.

But the irony is,

you don't want to walk away. 

Nowhere 

The silence of a world forgotten,

speaks volumes to those who listen;

Of past mistakes,

and fallen kingdoms,

of beautiful women,

and ravaged lands,

that gave fruit til no more could be beared.

But now our stories have changed light,

Beauty is no longer in the fruitful,

instead we find it in cold hard glass,

metal towers and toy guns.

We feel so little toward out fellow man,

we take and seldom admire.

Songs are sung not merely for the beauty of the lyric and melody,

but to tear down and be cruel.

We need to change our world,

or our own world will not be forgotten.