Void

2 Comments

Tags:
  • Depression

    Void

    Void, canceled, simply annulled.
    Endless aching, unconsoled.
    Life without you, cause without reason
    Touch without sense, time without season.
    I face life now facing a cancerous sore,
    A sordid parasite that eats at my core.
    All that makes me whole, all I hold deep within,
    Leaving me lifeless, or at least not livin'.
    A shallow face, anguished and marred.
    An empty space, sealed and scarred.
    Sweetly abiding to a cynical charade.
    Secretly hiding 'hind a fictitious facade.
    Still, lost within this heart of glass,
    This fragile yet unfeeling mass.
    Lies the remains of a love that glowed,
    The gift to you I once bestowed.
    But honor and pride now bereaved-
    By your love for me so misconceived,
    Ripped from my inner depths, impeding-
    Mind and body and spirit, bleeding;
    Now is crushed to sand from thy ruthless hand,
    A cold stare I just can't understand.
    I feel somehow, somehow I'm dying,
    At least my soul and all that's underlying.
    A simple void, is that what I've become?
    The hollowed sphere on a pendulum.
    Swinging back and forth, emotion to emotion.
    Never once stopping, nor slowing the motion.
    No reason, no answer, no justification.
    Just passing through time as time passes me.
    Merely a nothing- noting, merely left to be.
    Sightless, and soundless, unseen and unheard.
    Mindless and boundless, obscure and absurd.
    All empathy lying ungraced, unemployed,
    I love my life, dying, unembraced, a void.

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    dancinghawk commented on Void

    12-01-2009

    well you drew me in with those awesome opening lines (saw this posted on the home page of OP) ... so many great lines in this piece and the overall yawp is just brilliant ... "The hollowed sphere on a pendulum." ... what a great image ... beautiful write, silentcry09 ... -dh

    Gabriel85 commented on Void

    07-02-2009

    Beautifully worded and effortlessly melancholy- every one of your poems has some very sad truths to them.

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    silentcry09’s Poems (62)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Deeply and Dearly 0
    Dust 0
    Daddy 3
    From Across The Room 1
    Beautiful Nightmare 1
    My Final Day 0
    Paper Clips 1
    Sweet Nothing 0
    Since He Left 0
    Tears 2
    When 1
    This One 1
    Screaming 0
    The Friend I Never Had 2
    Are You Listening? 0
    The World Is My Stage And I Know All My Lines 1
    What I Want, What I Need 0
    Blood Lust 1
    Pain of Thinking 0
    I'll Never Know 0
    He May Just Get His Wish 0
    The Past Is Real 0
    Razor Blade Kisses 0
    Chops 0
    Hidden Memories 0
    Untitled 0
    Cutting; My Bloody Art 0
    Blood = Pain = Love 0
    The Rebegining 0
    My Pleasure 1
    Rain 1
    Useless 0
    Leavin' 0
    Another Day 1
    HERO 3
    Je t'aime 0
    You 4
    Cryin' 0
    Stride 0
    Painting 0
    In the End 1
    Free 0
    Numb 0
    Since my Sixth Day 0
    Alone 4
    Morbid 1
    Self Injury 1
    Numbness 0
    Escape 0
    Pain 0
    My Fading Soul 1
    Lost in the Dark 2
    Daddy's Girl 4
    Just Another... 0
    What Have I Become? 2
    Here I go 0
    The Note 1
    Void 2
    Bo-Bo 1
    Scars 4
    Choice 2
    For You 1