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Where are these tears I so long to cry?
Are they buried somewhere inside me or
just frozen behind my eyes?
I feel the storm inside of me.
The thunder and lightning display my pain and anguish
Only there is no rain.
I long for it to pour down and wash this sadness away.
It stays suspended in a lonely cloud inside my head.
I can feel it. The thunder calls my name.
It knows my thoughts.
The tears cannot go beyond the boundary of my eyes.
They can only look from the inside out and wonder
what it would be like to break free and run down my cheeks.
Each tear would melt a piece of the wall I have
built up inside and all around me.
Maybe then I will see a cloudless, sunny day.
I am my own person.
I can think on my own,
exist on my own.
I don't need to depend on anyone but myself.
People do whatever they're told
because they're afraid....
Afraid of what other people might think,
what people might say.
The world has so many under its control.
Blinding them to the concept of their own true self;
Automatons... products of society's mould.
I'm not afraid to speak my mind.
Why should I care what people think?
I don't need to depend on them for sustenance.
I can get along just fine by myself,
I'm not sorry I don't meet the world's standards.
I'm not sorry I won't conform to beliefs that are not my own.
Why should I risk opening myself up to be used
I just sit and watch
seconds turn into minutes
turn into hours
turn into days
Crazy thoughts in my head
trying to make sense of chaos
everything's so loud
I can't seem to quiet my mind
or find a place of solace
there's no rest for the weary
no comfort for the brokenhearted
It's all just a nightmare
Even when I open my eyes
there's still darkness everywhere
I just keep falling and falling
There's no sense in crying
No one hears me anyway
I just sit alone and watch
as this chaos swallows me alive
I'm a cold-blooded reptile,
you said so yourself.
Every move, every look,
every thought, every action,
had an alterior motive to you.
You were just waiting
for me to fuck up.
I hated that.
Dissected every single day...
and for what?
Just so you could put the pieces
together the way you thought
they should fit?
Living in a false reality
a world that will never exist,
so what if I chose to be skeptic?
Someone has to protect me.
You thought you were so much
better than me because
you had some sort of "insight"
into the way the world
and everyone in it works.
You had solved the
"great mystery of life."
That's why everything I believed in,
my faith, was nothing more
than a joke to you.
I thought I believed in magickal fate,
puppy love at first sight,
but when every day became
just another chapter of
meaningless fights and arguments,
I had to wonder...
just what was it that I was
At first it was you,
everything about you...
so fragile and precious,
wanting so desperately to be
Lord, you knew who I was
before the heavens were formed.
You had a dream, a plan for my life
before the day I was born.
You reached down from up above
and took me in your arms.
You wrote my name in the palm of you hand
and on my heart emblazoned yours.
You've claimed me as your own,
I delight myself in you.
You've begun a new work in me
for all things have been renewed.
No more sadness fills my heart,
only songs of endless joy.
You've restored what was taken away,
Satan's plans have been destroyed.
My Savior, my Deliverer
You came and rescued me
from the destruction I was heading for.
Your love has set me free.
Though I was lost and so broken
Lord, you still new my name.
I heard you calling out to me,
"Let me make you whole again!
I want to open your eyes
to see the woman you've become in Me.
You are my creation, my daughter, my own.
I will give you joy and everlasting peace.
You will walk in purity and love
and you will see with my eyes.
If you delight yourself in Me
I'll give you you
Little Miss It“Do you enjoy her company?”
That, Avadaci concluded, had been the extent of his grandfather’s kindness. Thank the stars he had broken his neck after a failed attempt to ascend the castle staircase. Not that many were privy to this information. The official listing on the cause of death involved something along the lines of falling in battle after slaying at least a dozen demons, although this was treated with quite a bit of skepticism by the general populace. Yet, interestingly enough, a decent portion of the locals believed a tale about the cannibals of Unkhtom devouring him whole.
Not that Avadaci really cared how his grandfather had died. He was just glad he was dead. And if he was glad his grandfather had died, Avadaci wondered, why did he have to attend his funeral? In fact, the whole kingdom was glad his grandfather had died. Why did they have to attend the funeral?
“Oh Avad,” proclaimed his mother, “obv
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