Fortress

Within these walls there is an empty vessel.
Nowhere does it say in this place that light is a friend.
Scattered are the remains of what was, what is, and what never will be.
There is only darkness within me.
Left to my own devices I have become blind,
Blind to all and everything around me.
From within comes a soft beating.
It will stop soon, of this I am sure.
Love has left here.
It has bore a tunnel straight through my heart and out of my body.
I don't ask any questions.
Who am I to beg.
What was left are the ruins of the past.
Nothing to savage, nothing to claim.
Here I shall lay in malignant stupor.
Forever counting shadows which dance around me; 
Taunting me with their presence.
I know it is all for not.
I know that here the light exists solely as a reminder
of what I will never have.
Peace, tranquility, hope, and love... 

©2014

No Sympathy For Lowly Kings

Everyone's got a story

a poem, or a song.

Nobody's got a care for you,

whether you feel it right or wrong.

You say you want sympathy?

then go wait in line.

The world owes you nothing,

and neither do I.

Suffer here 

or suffer there

it really doesn't matter,

and I certainly don't care.

My heart is numb

and my soul benign.

Can't say I care, 

to give you more time.

I've paid my dues

and shed my tears.

beside it was nothing

only four months and two years...

So take away your love

and your deplorable pleas.

Stop contaminating me 

your love's a disease.

I loved you once,

but i can't anymore.

I've turned my back

and locked that door...

 ©2014

Over

Crossed the street
Didn't look both ways
Can't say I really care
too much these days.

Ran around
confused and lost
cant stop thinking
how much your love cost

This love is gone.
Our love is dead.
You see never is forever,
and you can't take back what's said.

I can't keep going.
I don't want to wait.
I'd rather feel nothing,
than be consumed by hate.

Crossed the street
Didn't look both ways
looking for an ending
to my overwhelming malaise.


 ©2014

Ramblings

I cannot remember the last time I really sat down and wrote something.
It was ages ago. From the looks of it, the last time was three years ago.
I guess depression really allows my creative mind to be free.
Since I have "overcome" that battle I have been empty of all written creativity.
Why is it that I wrote better when I was in high school?
(Its funny cause I sucked in English class.)
Words don't seem to flow from my fingers very well anymore.
My mind can't seem to settle on anything.
I feel like I have gone from one type of depression into another.
Can I say I liked the other one better? (at least poetically)
My brain seems to have trouble deciding between being fine with life and wanting to stop the experience.
I can't say I have been suicidal since the last time I was in hospital but its not as though the thought hasn't crossed my mind..
I truly don't want to die, I know there are great things in life to experience.
I just feel as though I will never get to experience them.
I suppose this is a common feeling to most though, so I'm not really sure what to think of it.
I guess for now I will continue my attempts to write and create here...

-Morgan

Instinct

Instinct.
Follow it.
Live it
Breathe it.
Feel it.
BE It.

It says go.
Go.
It says stay
Stay.
It says you should die.
then Die.

Loveless

Here I lay,
vulnerable and broken before you.

My mind is empty,
my heart is still.
All is silent this late October night.

If I had known the end was neigh,
If I had known the world would guide us here.
I would have taken my life then.

How is it that lovers;
fall,
shatter,
break?
When it all began with
passion,
lust,
joy.

How is it that our love
has crumbled,
faltered.
When we felt so deeply each other.
Is it just how things are supposed to be?
Can love truly be eternal?

Here I lay,
naked and afraid before you.
Our love lay in shambles around us.
Perhaps this is what we were destined for.
Perhaps no love can last...

©2014