Journey.

The saddest day of my life was unexpected and blindsighted me in a single, sorrowful instant, time stood still that very day as I was forced to accept that it was not a misprint. Frozen, I stood not wanting to accept that you had been chosen, to return to God to watch over us, you were always so ambrosian. My voice failed me, as I tried to hold my head up high and stand tall and strong, not wanting to reveal that I really felt like it would get caught in my chest, like the saddest song. Now I sing the blues, for I know what real pain can do; how it can turn one's frown upside down, leaving them feeling worse than if they had been subdued. I wish I could undo the sadness, or turn back the hands of time, wish I could dismiss my ability to reminisce, and gain eternal sunshine in my spotless mind. I watched your slow decline, saw your spirit slowly begin to give up, and then to fade; instead of reverting to the lost little boy I was when first subjected with loss, I will count my blessings, and not allow myself to be afraid. Your legacy will live on through me, as my persona is such a positive reflection of yours; already, the opportunist in me, is finding the optimism that lies within me, as I now see all of the exciting newly opened doors. The fire inside me has brightened, and gains power with each new day, as the determination within me enlightens, my ambition has returned much stronger now than it was yesterday. I have let go of all hostility and hatred, started a new chapter with a clean slate; tabula rasa tenderness that will be sure to help me improve my fate. My destiny will be fulfilled, as I am now going to be working for two, I will grow wiser, as change truly comes with the desire to do so, my motivation will be resilient, and refuse to be removed. The sun shines sweetly as it rises, embracing the world for a new day and with it a new start; losing you was hard but will ultimately be the catalyst that reignited the spark that died inside my heart. My journey begins now, not with a single step, but with a giant bound, I can gladly, and fortunately say that upon being reminded of my own mortality, I have found the reasons to regain solid ground.

Reptile.

The lack of communication brought on the demise of our relations, like an ancient civilization, falling apart; it all resulted in the overwhelming frustration that led to the condemnation of my bruised and battered, broken heart. We were of Atlantis, as our continent slowly flooded, entering a state of total disrepair. Sumerian Gods could not have saved us, for ours had become a planet devoid of oxygen, how were we supposed to breathe with no air? Slowly but surely, our lifelines were cut, as we floated much too far out at sea, with the remaining strength within me, I prayed for salvation, for an escape, or an end to the misery of your company. I stayed because you made it so convenient, gave me stability and security at the cost of my very soul. Naive and foolish me, like a kitten, I continued to drink the poisoned milk that you would provide for me, endlessly, in the most deceiving bowls. I watched you stray, silently, refusing to accept that we had reached our untimely end. Foolishly, I denied the truth, and attempted to keep you around, confusing you for my dearest friend. But alas, in the end, my heart was unable to mend as I continued to pretend that redemption was just around the bend. You laid me out like dirty laundry, belittled me at every opportunity, made it your goal to remind me of my unforgivable flaws. Take your place at centre stage, and bow as your audience gives you a standing ovation; here comes your shower of applause. I wish you had the decency to tell me that you were through with me instead of feigning interest through the form of careful control. I would definitely be different now if that were the case, but I would not be as wise, as you taught me the greatest lessons; I grew wiser and more bold. I learned to be accepting, never jealous, or overbearing but instead to share my feelings, be trusting, and more caring. Your skin might shed with each new year, yet I still see through the smoke and wonder. You are a reptile, with scaly skin, always wishing the worst for others, competing with them until you trick yourself into believing that you have succeeded at stealing their thunder. Your tongue flicks in and out of your mouth as you lasciviously search for your next unsuspecting victim or prey, hopefully your efforts are one day in vein, as society becomes privy to the games that you attempt to play. You were a snake in sheep's clothing, fortunately I finally saw through the facade and left. I have survived as a result, I am not one to be played, or grow old, lonely, or become bereft. I have finally been set free, liberated long enough to catch my breath.

Critic.

Denial, like a double sided sword, cuts deeper when coupled with remorse, as reality and its harshness has started to run its course. Grief grows thicker than fog making it hard to see the tunnel, let alone the light at its dreary end, as I muster all of my knowledge in the attempt to comprehend how to create a new beginning from a story that refuses to end. Something from nothing but at what cost, how much more compromise will it take before I have mastered the art of being my own boss? Soul searching should not feel selfish, yet for some reason it always does, as the inability to accept things for what they are has started to deeply affect the beauty that once was. If I could, I would rewind time to the days when life always seemed so easy, instead my present preyed on my past, making the world that surrounded me become so sleazy. Shadowed by my doubts, my potential stagnates inside me like milk that sits on the counter waiting to turn sour, as I pace and watch life pass me by, and wonder when it will be my hour. When will the sun shine for me, showing me that all was naught in vain; when will my universe unfold so I can feel at peace within my soul again? I slowly watch as each one of my dreams miscarries or is still-born, dead on arrival ambition of mine tends to break me, and make me feel so torn. Distraught, I dance dead behind the eyes, forcing my feelings to fly away, repressing them, and donning a disguise. I crave clarity to supplement the logic and reason that long to be let out, I am my harshest critic on the coldest days, what happened to the confidence that once emanated within me, and filled me from the inside out. I know I have limitless success lying dormant in me, waiting to be tapped into, yet I foolishly give up before tasting the failure which once had the ability to make me feel renewed. I will march on, and carry on, remove this monkey from my back. I will believe in myself and know my dreams wil be achieved, no longer falling victim to my endless, scrutiny and attacks. The king is back, and will be better than he ever was before; I may have been yesterday's fool, but I will never be today, or tomorrow's postwar whore.

Never Be The Same Again.

Time stands still as it all still feels so surreal, refusing to speed up so my heart can heal. My mind races with questions as denial pulses through my veins, like abstract art, this life has become a mystery to my brain. Childless parents and parentless children, we can become orphans in a single, somber instant. Wartorn world that we live in is imperfect as can be, yet the selfishness that ravages my insides wishes that you were still here with me. Words turn into water in the palm of my hands, slipping away from my cognition like the finest grains of sand, yet I still cannot understand why death tears apart my Wonderland. Although I am a soldier and have survived many atrocities, I would go through it all again to have my best friend right next to me. My role model is gone, I am like a sheep without its shepherd now, as I look to the stars that light up the night sky and dare to ask my maker how. How is it that dictators, hatemongers, and ugliness remain yet beauty is taken away so young, like a runaway train? How does my heart not overflow with the pain that threatens to devour it whole, now that it is no longer surrounded by your beautiful soul? Unconsoled, I lay my head down every night refusing to allow the tears that threaten to trickle from my eyes, for they will cry rivers for the injustice that I feel, even though time will eventually be kind and allow another sun to rise. Sometimes strength fails me and I become as weak and innocent as a young child devoid of pride, as I solemnly search for a hand to hold, someone to lean on, or somewhere to hide. Without you, there is no me, I feel like I ceased to exist with your untimely end. At times you were the only one who saw the soul that cried inside me, and that is when you were my only friend. Lonely now, I try to pick up the pieces of the scattered memories that remain, like fragments of shrapnel, they pierce my heart like a dagger, I will never be the same again.

Good Night Moon.

The lines between reality and unclarity are blurred, as the voices in my head that attempt to accept that you have passed prefer to remain whispered. In you, I saw the brightest light, your future seemed so promising, as the love I have for you remains, never wilting, only blossoming. You were my greatest role model, I looked up to you even when you were down. And now as the sands of time turn, I die a little inside knowing that you will be lowered into the ground. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, from the Earth you came, and in God I trust, that you will forever remain a part of me, a star in my sky that shines brighter than the rest. Like the sun that rises in the east and sets in the west, my love for you was so magnificent, I gave you nothing short of my best. My greatest role model that I would stay up late to emulate as I watched you with adoring eyes, those same eyes fill with tears now that I know that you have reached your premature demise. I found you lying face down and assumed that you were just sedated, until I arose early the next morning to sadly see that your soul had been liberated. You are now with my other Earth angel, floating high above the skies, I will carry you in my heart until the very end, your legacy will live on in the brightest lights of your beautiful daughter's tear filled eyes. The only certainty in life is death so with the utmost strength and candor, I attest that your name will remain on my lips until my very last breath, you are my commander. Rest in peace my beauty queen, we will meet again one day soon; every night I will remember you, as I wave and say, "Good night, moon."

Resilience.

Disillusionment deepens the depression that drearily duets with one's demise; I dance disenchanted denying the depression that dared to darken and dye your divine eyes. Misery mated with melancholia and made me mourn the melodies that you mustered that I often mistook for lullabies, as the fire inside you chose to flee instead of fight creating embers, then ashes before departing and saying its final goodbye. I am weakened by your weakness, what happened to the wonder that once won and would no longer wash your sorrows ashore? Saddened, I can only speculate now that love don't live here anymore. Everything is nothing now as impermanence asserts itself, the potency of your potential declined and started to melt like the Arctic shelf. Was it not enough that I would hang on to your every word, or was it inadequate, as it is now obvious that your restless spirit felt as caged as a captured bird. Bountiful bliss that I am now forced to accept as a blessing in your place is hardly a substitute for you who held the power to rehabilitate the human race and the sole recipient of the rare love inside me that now feels displaced. Misplaced but not lost as the resilience within me is certain to be my saving grace, as I know that our day will come where my soul will feel as renewed as the first time ever I saw your face. With the memories of my mortality, I am forced to either accept death as a part of life or succumb to it as well. You are now Eve in paradise, we will have our Eden again as I will forever remain under your spell. The blatant beauty that you bore was often beleaguered by the blues, new beginnings can occur through some endings, my friend, although ultimately, it is our own volition to decide what we will choose. I toss salt over my shoulder, and grasp tighter to my lucky charms as I say several prayers for you, hoping that you are now safe and soundly protected from harm. Choking on the truth, I feel I have no choice but to accept the harshness that reality relies on to take us by surprise, even though I know that a day will arrive when we will be reunited and bask once again in the sun's majestic rise. Instead of failing, or falling, I will be persistent and prevail turning my sadness into triumphs and tries, I will not give up, or back down but cherish the life that I have been given, and view each new day as the reward that it is, for each one is truly a prize.

Believe.

Through all these years, and all these memories, there has been you. You pulled me through time, and now I search for you. I listen for your voice in the wind that moves my soul. I try to smell your scent, the pleasures that would make you whole. I attempt to feel the touch of your caress, when you would dry the tears that fell from my weary eyes. I dare to question why, you have ceased to exist without allowing room for me to say a proper goodbye. In smoke, I look for you, hoping that you will give me a sign that you have passed onto the other side, and gone home to a place that is free of flawed design. I cry, sob, wail, then weep as the strength comes and goes. Although, you left with grace, I know that your independent nature and spirit chose to leave this world for a better, and far more liberating place. Now that you are gone, I can still feel your energy in everything I do. From the moment I wake, to the last hours of my day, my thoughts and prayers are centred on you. Even the blues that rise to the surface longing to be put to music and sung, are nothing without the strength you gave me to articulate the words that flavour my tongue. From the Earth we rise, and back into it we go, our blood soaks into the soil, making us far more immortal than we will ever know. Yet still, I long to hear the softness of your voice when you would harmonize, creating melodies that came from deep within your heart, and to the Heavens they would rise. I drink freely from the fountain of youth hoping to carry on your legacy and one day make you proud, you were my queen, now and forever, we will meet again when my life ends, mending my heart, as we play amongst the clouds. A requiem for the dreams that I saw reflected in your eyes, now I will have to muster the courage to sing the sweetest reprise. The tree of life that continues to grow inside me will always have branches that are made beautiful by your leaves. From now, until my dying day, in your essence, I will always believe.

Goodbye.

These tattoo tears that are tumultuous terrorize my eyes, never superfluous. The sadness I've seen is too much for movie screens, wildly, as it moves through the streets, my angered, agitated ambulance careens. I crossed the finish line only to discover it was lined with dirt and not gold, prayed to find someone to hold to ensure that I would survive another night, and make it through the cold. I get older, never wiser, as my torrid past catches up to me and leaves me out at sea. Drowning in my misery, choking on thoughts of suicide that refuse to let me be. The sharper the knife, the lesser the strife that will slowly cut away the pain. The repressed memories and rage can no longer set the stage for the fake smile that gets plastered on my face. Packed my bags, and relinquished the spiritual baggage that kept me grounded within this place. The friends that solely pretend to be concerned have all been abandoned now, as I count the ways in which this camel's back is broken; it is time to take my final bow. No longer able to put on an act in this life that is merely a stage, all the players and actors within it have resulted in my heart being unable to set itself free from this cage. Theatrics, dramatics, melodrama too, are the ingredients that once added the flavouring to my sorrowful stew. Tears stain my face like mascara running from eyes that once sparkled and seemed so bright, praying, pleading that I will survive through just one more night. If I somehow do, and my soul has still survived, I continuously attempt to trick myself into believing that I am still grateful to be alive. But alas, I am not, as there is so much that is not apparent on the surface. At twenty four, I feel like I have served my purpose and I am no longer nervous to meet my creator, and bid adieu to this sedimentary circus. Goodbye, au revoir, in time we will meet again. I failed, and have lost; all I ever wanted was a friend.

Clown.

I will do what ever it takes to shake you off and make my way to the top. I'll step on your fingers, stand on your back, use and abuse you until you can no longer take my massive attack. I am no longer able to be fake or phony and feign ignorance as if I do not realize that you are far below me. I will always find others that can be more loyal, you were only good for me when I needed you, the milk to my oil but you made the wrong move, and now any chances of us rekindling are spoiled. My path to success will be lined with the blood, sweat and tears of my peers who did not hesitate or think twice before acting weird and not as wise as intelligent as appeared. In arrears, I will display your fears before you, lay them out straight on your front lawn and show you that you doubted me, then kicked me when I was down. That you are troubled now, and are far more entertaining than any common circus clown. From Pierrot to Bozo, Pennywise or Krusty, your jokes are starting to fail to amuse, your talent's starting to get rusty. You are a one trick pony, the old dog that could not learn new tricks, so go to sleep now, rest your head down, it is time for you to get fixed. I have had my fair share of dealing with your audacity, every time you needed me, I was there to no avail, and even still you tried to sass me. Only ended up looking like an ass, you court jester fool, just a word of advice for the future, put away your phone and pick up a book and get schooled, or at the very least learn the rules before you try to play games in which you are untrained. Missiles, shrapnel, landmines, and atomic bombs became the desert rain songs that were only ever able to keep you calm. Napalm to my gunpowder, your bow and arrows never stood a chance. Success is on the horizon, so sweet that I can taste its virtuous victory on my tongue, as I climb up higher on life's rungs. You can stay stung, I refuse to help you out or pick you up again. No longer privy to your petulance, I am now the only friend I need to mend.

Coming of Age.

Though my love for you remains unchanged, as we sift through the pieces of our past, now estranged. These padded walls and restraints could not even succeed at making me feel more deranged than you did whenever you would act so strange. Our puzzle remains undone, as our story unfolded to reveal that you were not the one. Not to be outdone, I toyed with your emotions, played you like Russian Roulette, and my words were the gun. I pulled the trigger every time I berated you, filled your head with bullets when I would lament that you were slowly making me lose it. My sanity somehow survived the suffering that singed me every time you would avert your eyes. Your gaze phased me more than the grays of my moods that would drown me in sorrow for several stifling days. Yet somehow I stayed amused, bound to you, allowing myself to wrap further around your fingers as if yours was the hand that fed me; but you misled me. Once I became cognizant of the evil and villainous nature it was so easy for you to assume, the walls around me started to cave in, making it hard for me to breathe, as if I was trapped inside the room filled with an unsurmountable and impending sense of doom. Pricked my heart on your loom one too many times for me to resume, or remain within the confines of chaotic control that would consume me, like fire furiously flickers becoming wildfire and spreading through forests ferociously. I am burn victim number one, and you are number two; the damage cannot be reversed now that the pages of our legacy are the reasons why we are both cursed. Revelations of rage run wild, forcing me to remain caged; we are both damaged, although we have finally come of age.

Gratitude.

As each second turns to minutes, and the hours start to pass me by, I see with further clarity, that I am slowly but surely becoming the reason why the sun rises each morning in my sky. I work harder to attain the things that I know that I deserve, no more straws will break this camel's back, the very thought of it is even quite absurd. I was made to move mountains, to soar throughout the skies and Heavens above, instead of being created to endlessly search for, but never find, the prospects, and not promises of unrequited love. I am a force of nature, a soothing breeze when I am calm, or a storm on my worst days, that could even intimidate atomic bombs. Slowly but surely, I am winning the race, and becoming the person that even I would want to date, as I pick up the pace and realize that expectations convolute reality, and disappoint when they are late. I grow older, wiser, and become enlightened, as I enter the promised land; I no longer see a reason to seek another man to fulfill demands that only I will ever be equipped to accommodate or understand. Clipped wings no more, the sky is not the limit, as I possess the potential to become all that the world needs, and adores. I will stop searching for happiness in the blues of another's eyes, cease the futile search for a partner that will make me feel whole again inside. Instead, I have become aware of the beauty that I contain within, cognizant of the colour of confidence now that I have developed an appreciation for the skin that I am in. This newfound humility washes over me, cleansing me of my misdeeds as I sit and contemplate, all of the lessons that I have learned and have yet to learn, choosing to employ my own free will rather than to leave it all to fate. My gratitude increases as I count my blessings every day, I thank the universe and God above for holding my hand when I was lost, and helping me regain my footing; I am finally on my way.

Eternity.

My tiny hands hold yours whenever the world makes me feel so small, as you whisper words of wisdom, and remind me to breathe to prevent myself from further falls. Inconsistency, no stranger to me, cowers in fear when you are near. You are my tower of hope, beacon of strength, and the rungs to my ladder which help me climb to higher lengths. As I break and shatter as easily as an egg, you crack the whip harder and remind me that I was born a king, and never made to beg. With your support, I am invincible, the sky even fails to be my limit; you have managed to capture my heart in the best of ways, and with it you have won all the beauty, love, and honesty that are contained within it. Friends may come, whilst others go, like roses, and graves that line life's rows, yet beauty remains in the calmness of your voice, in the ways in which you remind me that even some victims have a choice. Mansions in paradise await for you to claim your keys, as it is solely true friends like you that are ever able to emulate the tropical breeze that is sought out to make us feel at ease. Although the days between our reunions often turn into weeks, and then even months; I am forever indebted as I count my blessings, that I was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you even once. My heart overflows with love at the mere thought that our paths crossed and that we coexist; often, when I am sad, or blue, just the thought of you, is enough to dismiss the sadness that devours me whole and send it tumbling towards my own antagonistic abyss. Gratitude sets the mood whenever memories of us rise to the surface; your unfaltering friendship is often enough to take mere fantasies and fairy tales and weave them into actual bliss. Without you, there is no me, for your guidance often led my way like shepherds lead their sheep. Any time I need a helping hand or just a shoulder on which to lean, I am thankful to have been blessed with friends who never hesitate to intervene. Although this Superman has been reaching out for help more frequently now than in days gone by, he is eternally blessed to have been caressed by the lives of kindred spirits who are my truest friends, and in actuality, Earth angels in disguise.

Sonnet.

Now that you are resting, I will softly sing you lullabies, and whisper sweet nothings solely, the kind that even bitterness does not despise. I will tell you the tale of the sweet sister heroine who marched proudly along, who despite her many sadnesses still sang the sweetest songs. My guitar gently weeps as it replays your life, a masterpiece canvas that devoid of its strife, was often filled with more strength than even the sharpest of knives. As a child, I would emulate you, follow you around and mimic your every move. Now that I am older, your caustic wit, attitude, and confidence helped me get into and then remain in the groove. You are a legacy, an epic to be shared with generations to come, yet these tears fail to cease as I fail to feel numb. The weather was sweet, the sun you often referenced came out and shone bright for you, and as it grew dark, the mysterious moon made a magnificent appearance, so I could soundly say good night to you. With you serenely asleep, I will paint with vibrancy to ensure that my own life is twice as sweet, I will grow into the man who remained idle until now, and rise from the ashes instead of falling victim to defeat. I sing you to sleep, as I am rest assured that slumber has received you well, yours is a sonnet that my lips will eternally retell.