Lament of the coward by GatesOfMidnight, literature
Literature
Lament of the coward
I gave up on luck, it left too much to chance;
I gave up on dreams for I dreamed of romance.
I tossed aside worries, they annoyed me too much;
I tossed aside anger for I needed no such.
I left behind feelings, they brought needless pain;
I left behind beauty, I was no longer vain.
I abandoned my hope, it brought frail security;
I abandoned my light, now I dwell in obscurity.
I forsook even empathy for it made me seem weak,
I forsook my humanity for my future was bleak.
If I die tonight
How many people will be actually hurt?
How many people will ever cry for me?
How many people will ever want me back?
If I die tonight...
Will all my friends gather at my place?
Will all my relatives come to see me?
Will my teachers get hurt?
Will my admirers ever shed their tears?
If I die tonight...
Will I be missed?
Will I be thought about?
Will it make anyone sad?
Will it make any difference?
If I die tonight...
The sun will rise and set as it did
People might sympathise for a moment
Then will get back to their work.
If I die tonight...
I don't think it would make much of a difference to anyone!
Instead
Baby, I hope you bury me in ashes
Tear off the fabric of my dress and taste the the skin of my stomach
And kiss the cold smile that you never knew
You never got the chance to know me
Or the story behind each scar
You just smiled and nodded all the way through
From classroom to coffin
From gravel to gravestone
You didn't love me from my blue jeans to my little black dress
From the car park
To the funeral home
I was dead from the second I met you
I was picking out my coffin on the bus-ride home
I was just a figure
You were just a ghost-boy
Empty
Shucked clean from the shell
No soul, no heart, nothing my pen could dream up
I nev
Words are left unspoken.
As deep inside his heart is broken.
The pain is reflected in his eyes,
but hidden even as he cries.
The truth is known,
but still he feels completely alone.
Everyday it constantly repeats,
he hides himself in the streets.
Feeding on only the smallest scraps,
as he tries to hide, ready to collapse.
He holds a face yelling, 'Fear me'
He prays for the day when someone will set him free.
Anger, hate, fear and pain
tied to the world by nothing more than a chain.
Knowing nothing more than loss,
he fights to find his way across.
Only knowing how to be a mourner
he sits alone in the corner.
A head of black,
reaching down t
Old poem, kinda sad. I'm gonna change it up a little in a few days so for now this is the poem broken but be prepared for a change.
Fear is still here.
Deep inside she sheds a tear.
The outside world will never hear,
the pain she feels as she looks at the mirror.
They all call her names,
no one will ever know her pains.
She stares at the knife
she wants to take her own life,
but she doesn't
I miss the days when you were nothing
Like a dad to me.
When you didn't care what I thought
Or how I felt.
Before you tried speding time with me
And keeping me happy.
When your life was all about my brothers
And my mother and
There was no room left for me.
Before you made an excess of room
All just for me.
I miss the days when you didn't
Take me fishing.
When you didn't spend money
On everything I might
Or might not want.
When you didn't care if I was going
To Heaven or to Hell.
When nothing mattered
When it came to me.
I miss the times I could simply hide away
In my room with a book
And some music playing in the back
And i'd actually be aw
The End
Through the matted haze
A silhouette, man or monster?
Are you there?
A trick of blackened mind?
You’d think my intended liberation cruelly selfish.
You’d ask -
What of the children? What of you? What of us?
These come as gifts to cling to.
I try to tell you.
I walk on the edge of an abyss.
But I am ignorant of it.
I am a fool to feel safe. A fool, unaware.
I walk for a while, and everything is okay.
There’s a path I follow, it leads straight, it seems wide.
The abyss always looms and I have to notice it.
It’s always waiting now. Always in the corner of my mind.
I trick myself sometimes into thinking it&r
I am not on a cliff. Or
Drowning in a lake or
A river or even an
Ocean.
I am not falling. Or
Dying or losing myself
In a Forrest of fears and
Dead hopes.
I am not being crushed by
The weight of the problems
I carry.
No....
I am floating.
Flying through the air,
Just waiting until I
Fall.
When I fall and crash and
Die.
When I can't keep on flying
And feeling as if everything
Were alright.
When my makeshift wings fall apart.
And I, along with them.
Delicious pain.
Emotions made real.
Sweet escape.
Nothing seems real.
Punish myself.
Pain makes it real.
Criss-crossing red.
Sometimes pain is surreal.
Underneath here.
Then nothing is real.
Never seen.
Yet death is real.
Wonderful dream.
I need somthing real.
Sweet dreams.
Yes, death is real.