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The world is already dead. It has been the moment you were born. As each day blindly passes on, the more it's realized. Subtley. Perhaps quietly. In your heart you know it's true. Feel for a moment, there's an emptiness somewhere isn't there? Could that be it? If so, what then? Why not lie in the dirt and cease to be. Try making a new world. No, no. Those are answers. Answers are easy, life is not. So time for the real question. Why is the world dead? Care to answer? What's my answer? My answer.. is that I won't answer. It's frustrating. What you see below is an echo, a flash of that frustration. Feelings, frustration, all the same. As well as my dull and numb little mind can paint it. That's all. As I grew older, I'll realize more. I'll paint differently, or perhaps the same. Though remember, or forget. My answer is that I won't answer. I will not. Not you. Not to myself. Though, by telling you that makes a liar. Life is funny like that. Enjoy. Sincerely, Kyrend D'Mortrius |
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In the darkest and most forgotten dwelling of my mind, my being, is a prison. A cage, that's contents
compose of unknown promise, and ability. Kept safe from this cruel world, or perhaps my very own
self.
When the wind comes crashing against my face, and angels tickle my soul with their dance is when I notice it's there. The mournful wail for rescue fills my veins with mild pepper, and slowly melting ice. Moments then come before me quickly, my movements with filled with graceful purpose. My wishes become as clear as whimsical childern dancing before mirrors. While reality becomes nothing more then a drunken and unwanted blur. If I listen just right, I can almost hear it. The anthem of my essense echoing in my heart. A sadly beautiful tone, woven from my most tender emotions. A song thats gently burns my senses with an unidentiable resolve. Time wavers to the drumming of my captive passion, and my body is filled a weightless agility. I feel as if I could grow wings, and soar apon the pale clouds of distant horizons. The deluded filters of my mind melt away. The suffocating loneliness of my spirit ceases it's grip on my aging lungs, breathing in fresh air as if it were my first time. At the apex of my melody, I become untouchable. Immune to my past, my pain, and my situation. Fearless against might stand in front of me. Then... As if it was just a tease... My ballad fades to a slow rest, the world returning to it's original hue. My experience being nothing more then a taste. A loud scream echoing in the hallowed halls of my heart. I'am left humbled, and clueless to the stir of my greatest emotions. Hidden away in me, in places I can not see, let alone fathom. In an unknown void, that I can only feel in random moments. |
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| like a ragged and lonely twisted doll. I'am a worn toy without hope of being loved disregared of any potential, or status. Mistreated by time, aged with disappointment guided by diseased thoughts, cynical by habit doubting reality with a keen lack in vision. Deformed as not to fit any mold of which I could design myself. Destined to become yet another unused tool expected to sit quietly amongst the others in a whirlpool of drowning memories. That vacuums the richness of my soul, the only spark from the beginning and sole memory of the past. |
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At long last, I've crawled out of my cage for a moment to wave my magic wand at this old ghost ship. It's amazing it still floats. I've finally placed an intro to the site. I'm satisfied with it, as I should be. I had this feeling now for a long time, and I think I may of found the words for it. Those are it, what you see. They are just words to you, that's it. Take them for no more then that, or perhaps not. Though to me, it's something else. Maybe, if I look at them long enough I'll find the will,.. the meaning to start writing again. If there's anything left for me to say. If I've even really said anything to begin with. Your thoughts are encouraged. I'll ask, but will not beg for your reply. Your honest opinion would make my life more interesting. Maybe it'll make your life more interesting as well. Hell something besides junk mail would be nice. Though I've learned to live with "some" disappointments in life. Kyrend@hotmail.com, it's easy to remember, it's there before you. Thanks. As always, I like to mention that I'm almost completely grammer retarded. I also have to a tendency, to think on things other then what I'm writing. So as I'm writing something, I tend to add/replace words that don't belong. When viewed by myself, I sometimes don't see these errors, for I still believe it's what I intended to write. I think. |
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