War.

You infantile, prepubescent, pathetic little child, why do you play at staying calm, when it's clear to observers that your emotions are running wild?  You claim to be the most stunning, although your beauty is hardly even mild.  Give up the act and foolishness, it is starting to become quite tired.  Despised through all the land, you are most similiar to the king who has played his last hand.  Like a genie annoyed with granting wishes, your wishes are no longer my command.  I have given in to your last demands, and see that, now more than ever, you are hardly a man.  Lost little boy with your bag full of lies, open your eyes and realize that you are despised.  Your inability to accept fault is murdering your allies, as you acquired the inability to shock, your failed attempts for attention are no longer a surprise.  Once, you were a prize, now you are a curse, no longer a blessing, but quite the reverse.  Stuck on repeat, your lessons are more similar to mistakes, as they rewind, then replay, it is too late to activate the brakes.  Your engine stalls in those fleeting, hopeful moments in between, but then your eyes lose their light again, and all I can see within is gangrene.  You are rotten to the core, and that is why you are rotting, it is no longer hard to guess what are you up to, or deceitfully plotting.  Unreliable to the end, keep drowning your many sorrows and sins, as you watch helplessly as your friends fall to the ground like bowling pins.  You will surely end up alone crowded in a room full of strangers, and the saddest part is that you are aware yet choose to ignore all of the danger.  Continue to dance blindly, staggering back and forth between farce and delusion, anyone that is fooled by your stupidity has fallen for the illusion.  You project this image of one who is self-assure yet in confidence and secrecy, you admit that you are searching for a cure.  You are a cancerous growth, that I need to cut off, you have filled my lungs with nicotine, and become the black tar that makes me cough.  Avast, adieu, you have poisoned me for the last time, goodbye, I hate you, I have finally rebelled, and put an end to your war crimes.

Stillborn.

Tragic time ticks away and tricks me into thinking that we are almost done, as my memories of us have started to feel more like bullets in my loaded gun.  If you knew you were unhappy, why did you smile like you were having so much fun?  I should have known better than to think that you were ever the one.  Now, you should feel guilty for the way you made me believe, that paradise was just around the corner, as if Eden was something that we could achieve.  I feel so deceived, as I watch you walk away unfazed, looking so relieved.  Lying on the floor with my heart in my hands, I slowly give up, refusing to give in to any of your last demands.  Yet, I still hardly understand, how you failed to be the one to deliver me to my Promised Land. Something has got to give before I end up sad and lonely again, naivety has run its course as you are sadly still my hunger pain.  I am unsure what to do now that my life is barraged with rain, as I wash my hands clean of you, and watch the remnants of us circle the drain. Remorse and sorrow fill the home that we once lived in, much to my dismay and chagrin, I cannot help but allow myself to feel the suffering.  I am not a sore loser, nor a poor sport yet I fail to comprehend how to view this as a win, as I long to rewind time to when loving you never felt like the eighth deadly sin.   I cannot help but wonder if life made you this way or if these flaws were inborn, as I lie naked on the floor, with my heart in my hands, feeling so torn.  You smelled as sweet as the most lovely roses, although you were more similar to their thorns.  As you pricked my finger, and made me bleed, on countless occasions, I now see that our love was stillborn.  

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.