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Apart of our own Imagination.

Contributed by rico on Tuesday, 13th November 2007 @ 10:05:45 AM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry

The illusion is that we are here to be something, be something great, be something wicked, I am not a wicked person.... It takes a long walk down that dark path to make it there. I am not that guy to lead the good to the bad. Yet that is why its called an illusion, the light at the end of the tunnel doesnt exist, the warmth of the rightness is nothing but a myth. We are all just left there, for all eternety, going over how are life went wrong, or right...you never know.....but others will acually live their life over again, exept they are not truly there. they walk around among the living....doing as they do .... working as they work....eating, sleeping, F***ing, but in the light they are nothing but a distant memory.....invisible.....they laugh at their jokes only not to be heard. They love only not to be loved back. The price for being truly wicked, is the cost of your life, your mortality, try to live forever, not being able to touch the very thing that makes you feel so alive, The one reason that you are doing it over again, the way she makes your heart melt with the sound of her voice....You would give up anything, your very existance just to hold her one last time, to smell her hair, the feeling you have waking up to her face....but then you realize none of it was real. Then you begin to question what was life, you begin to wonder if you were even there, You walk around the darkness now wondering around until you are so confused you have no idea what is going on. Then you see the light.... holy sh** there is a light...... you walk through the door only to see yourself living you life, then you finnally realize, you were your minds own imagination...... to get away from the harsh thing we all call life...

Copyright © rico ... [ 2007-11-13 10:05:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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