Open to Suggestion

A box is only alive on the inside,
On the outside
Souls swim round deciding to enter
Or stay out in the open.
Choices become over thought
Becoming almost dangerous to trust instincts,
A simple answer feels high risk
Playing safe turns life into familiar situations
A comfortable uncomfortable,
Layers upon layers of protection
From an invisible inevitable.
It suffocates, squeezes the mind
To the extent of lashing out.
I will sit outside the box
And wonder of the magic
That changes life
Contained inside.

Dreams can come true

Thinking is nights blinking
Keeping awake the conscience
Alerting panic to stand by
Even though it’s a lie.
Sanity briefly held together
By a strand of rationality
That’s left in a reality.
Would I really do this
Could this really happen?
No not today, or ever,
But the mind lives it as truth
Senses and heart in overdrive
Bringing death closer through neglect.
The body lives by the heads guidance
Believing the false inevitable,
Asking what’s the use
In carrying on towards oblivion
As an supposed evil or fractured person
In this squalor we call freedom.
If the eyes saw what the body felt
The shock would kill the soul,
The hand would let blood flow,
Flooding the sanctuary of the mind
Until there can be no more questioning,
No Arguing or inner struggles with ones self.
Is it best to surrender prematurely
Instead of forever defining
Peoples altered perspectives of love and hate?.
Its tiring,
I wish I had the strength to just lay down and die
And release my soul, to this unknown fate.

Autumn Rain

Though we’re a great distance,
I sense and feel your pain,
So I send some hope up to the sky,
To wash down with the rain

Clouds act as a messenger,
The grey indicates the start,
Of little drops of cheer
That will help an aching heart

So next time there’s a storm,
And you get soaked to the skin,
Remember the hope I sent,
That will heal you from within.

Pendulum

A stranger to family
Though no black sheep,
A white angel
Born to mix up the pure
Voice the occasion
And relax at achievement.

If we died knowing what we really were
We would leave no mystery,
That lies in death
And the memories of the conscious.

Belief of the condemned
May show the path to enlightenment,
Dependant on the creativity
And imagination buried in the unconscious

Do we believe in the scenery
Devised on panic and choice,
Truth is, we are complicit
To the eventuality contrived
By experience
And the stories of our senses.

As family show remorse to the passing
They imagine their own divine termination,
Twisting it to fit a peaceful goodbye
While praying for more time
To design their own salvation.

Paradise

Man said ‘I will listen’
But hear he does not,
A trampled soul shouts for mortality
The world falls deaf,
A false leap is threatened
The crowd go blind,

We drain the rivers
After the soul has drowned,
Pump the stomach
When life is empty,
And break down bridges
To bury the skeleton.

Local guilt heals with time
And becomes no crime,
In the aftermath signs were seen
And remorse takes over.
At this point
‘Ask for help’ they say
But fear suffocates any voice

And even though
Life is at half mast
Balanced on the tip of no return
Hope falls heavily to the side of silence,
Irrationality persuades the mind
To now just save the breath,
Use final energy to rebound fear
Summon a last act of courage,
Find peace in the unknown
And walk closer to death.

Psycho

Impotence a form of defence
The minds subtle persuasion towards avoidance,
To fight the feeling of this false protection
We must lash out
And lash out we will,
Destroying relationships and bonds until…
It becomes too much
Forcing the tightrope to shake,
That is why impotence slows the will
Suffocates belief to a warped state
Of self preservation,
Saving what we fear the most,
Rejection and heart break.

Living with the depression
Begs us to ask the question
‘What else could we of become?’
But the mind sees through these lies,
Highlights the subconscious excuse
Then buries it.
But you can’t un-ring the bell
Truth lyes in the feelings,
Struggles with the muddy dealings
Of survival.
Sorely and painfully, knowledge sets us free,
Thriving, never arriving without pain.

We then live in the mire of regret,
A trap of anxiety to reboot,
But never re-enter that game
Patiently walk to the clearing,
Acknowledge allowance it’s normal to fall,
Allow that voice that your hearing
And be the version of yourself
That you first once saw.