Esoteric Online

Sometimes I look in the mirror and all I see is darkness

Do angels cry? When they cry is it with tears if blood?

I ask myself is there a God? If there is why has he forsaken me.

Why do some have their great life and for me its only pain.

It is not fair to not even be able to look into your own past

Because the child in me only knows tears and loneliness.

When I was a child all I wanted was to grow up and not have to be so small

I felt meaningless all my life, worthless and empty.

Like I was locked up in some basement deep under my skin.

No one there no light no love just chains and ice.

 

Sometimes I look in the mirror and hate myself

Hate myself for all that I have become, for forgetting myself

For not allowing me to be myself for becoming someone else

Just so He would love me, so He wouldn’t hurt me.

He hurt me more than I can express, it wasn’t just what he did

It was the betrayal, it was stealing away from me my owl soul

It is broken in pieces now and I don’t know where most of these pieces are.

Memories hidden so deep within me I don’t know where they are.

 

Sometimes I look in the mirror and want to die.

I want the pain to stop, I want the memories to vanish,

I want Him to love me, I want to have a family and be a child.

I want to feel love again; to feel joy I want to feel something else than fear.

It is like being frozen inside your skin, looking outside through bars of ice

Not being able to say what you want to say and be who you want to be.

I feel like a prisoner of my own past, locked inside my mind.

The only time I get to come out is when I create my art.

That is my wings and that I will use to escape weather dead or alive.

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Comment by 9 on July 26, 2017 at 10:50pm

The soul cries out beneath memories so deep

where demons there lurk by stealing your sleep

and through your mind the poison then creeps

to leave your heart in a smouldering heap



the snippets they play again and again

in your minds eye to relive all the pain

and you feel your soul begin to twist, and to strain

against all hurt that left there a dark stain



Your art is the mirror, that your soul see's itself through

the one and only thing that is real, and is true

the only thing that cannot be shifted askew

that shows the whole world the real essence of you.



Much love my friend



Peace.

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