Estranged
Cursed since my birth
I long for a change
My blood cold and black
My life is Estranged.
Days bleed together
Time, a potter’s clay
Molded by an unseen hand
riddled with deacy.
My life lived in a prison
Contained by untold sin
Restrained by bars of endless pain
I cut myself again.
My fate is cold and ugly
My haunted heart still hides
My scar-covered fist beats
the place in my chest
where my broken heart resides.
So please, look not upon me
For what’s hidden iun these eyes
Would drain the hope from any man
Silencing his cries.
Your thoughts become demented,
Your mind becomes derranged,
Your heart becomes bound by chains of despair,
And YOU become Estranged.
By:Lenoge
© 2001 Lenoge (All rights reserved)
Sorrow's Demention
Wandering through a vast expanse of
timelessness, whick exists only in a place devoid of
love and hate.A dreamscape so close to the
heart of man that every man with a heart knows it's
there.A broken heart will embrace this place
where nothing exists but sorrow.
This desert place this well filled with sand, dry of any emotion but pain.
The poet's heart dwells here...
Here where lines of verse flow from the place where
love once lived...where love died.
The desires, needs of ones soul are not found in this
place.
Yet this is where those weary, love torn souls will
search.
Men who have not yet found love have not yet found
this place hidden so well between nightmare and
reality.
Men who have found love are quick to forget.
But those tormented souls who have had love in their
hearts and lost it, in some way,
forever belong to this place.
Going there between thoughts, between breaths,
beteween words spoken from his own lips he glances
into this dreamscape of longing to remind himself of
the pain he could never forget.
To the man staring at a half empty glass and plate at
a table set for one, who remains there without a
spoken word, this place is home.
Seemingly enveloped in thought he visits this
wasteland.
At home, alone, in a bed with only one pillow he will
toss and turn while his spirit unlocks the door to this
desert, his broken heart the key he turns to enter this
place far beyond the peacful dreams of those who
are loved.
Here he will walk in search of his lost love, in a vain
attempt to fill the void left behind by the one who
stole his joy...the one who was his joy.
The one who left and took with her his sanity.
Here he will forever walk, an image of her always just out of reach,
taunting him to take the
next step towards an oasis that is not there.
An end to his journey...
A journey that has no end.
By:Lenoge
© 2001 Lenoge(All rights reserved)
Back