A MEDIQUATION IN SELF INDULGENCE

By: Mat Dye

Human nature’s phase,

transition into rage,

patience dwindled down,

like the words on this page.

Once more they reach out,

in terror to false hope,

unknowing of to how,

they tie off their own rope.

Reluctant they pay,

their time burns away,

the tolerance it fades,

as night turns to day.

The passion has left,

of love they forget,

this life seems to end,

but hasn’t started yet.

It’s a dark cruel world,

and they feel so cold,

they’ve never understood,

the things they’ve been told.

They feel,

false regret,

but still,

scared to death,

for some without their selves,

would have,

nothing left.

The wounds,

so deep,

secrets,

they keep,

deep down inside,

scars,

they still hide.

Going out of mind,

with brainwashed pride,

the social programming,

the masses abide.

The rich cut the rope,

of the hopeless who still hope,

a man cuts his throat,

as a child discovers dope.

The pain is endless,

statistics are senseless,

it seems to no end,

a worlds so relentless.

But what brings the spark,

that makes,

hearts so dark,

they think they’re so smart,

yet,

rip themselves apart.

Success seems out of range,

society wont change,

personalities stay the same,

as faces rearrange.

But how can they stand and preach,

of a future to bring good,

when they still bare the mark,

of self-neglected brotherhood.

A man gets fired,

now can’t support his kids,

his heart feels of fire,

he’s lost the will to live.

He,

ties the rope,

right,

around his throat,

the tears flush out,

as he starts to choke.

He,

grew so tired,

from the evil that descends,

now he’s,

self expired,

and the pain finally ends.

Pellucid are the thoughts of the words from these paragraphs,

in my mind carved in stone just like ones found in epitaphs.

Translucently I think of a time we’ll have change.

I see a light though so foggy its gray and out of range.

Still I try to ponder on things so impossible.

Like world peace and love still my thoughts are permissible.

The time we have to live is short and expendable,

while evil, greed, and hate are forever and unendible.

The words I write down so broad for many uses.

I am so open minded,

but closed and so clueless.

Please don’t turn to me,

if wisdom you seek.

I’m guided by muse,

I’m unwise and weak.

Though still full of thoughts,

so strong and so sensible.

I am a mere man,

ignorant irresponsible.

My mind,

so visual,

words,

full of syllables,

but life is so judge-able,

I mark others with labels.

And though,

this is senseless,

I am,

still relentless,

when it comes to cliché,

my thoughts are endless.

I’ve downgraded others,

and felt full of hate.

At so many times,

I’ve grown so irate.

I put out so much hurt,

and lived so short fused,

and never recollected,

all the ones I abused.

Although,

I might be lyrical,

inner thoughts,

are still maniacal,

my mind,

is still sick,

a disease that’s incurable.

It gets me so miserable,

it’s so indescribable,

this life feels unlivable,

I feel unreliable.

Sometimes I feel offtrack,

I think,

I am a maniac.

I feed on medication,

to keep,

me from panic attack.

I try,

so hard,

and don’t,

get so far,

this life,

is who we are,

complex,

just like a star.

I can’t give up,

I’ve created to much.

But all I’ll obtain,

will never be enough.

And the earth still turns,

We reap sickness of our nations,

Oh My heart still burns,

Viewing all the aberrations.

How can I divert morbid thoughts of deep mood,

while the world outside stays so sick and so lewd?

You may think I’m nuts,

And as my ridged mouth shuts,

you feel the deep cuts,

of my spilling of my guts.

Once a hardened time so far but so soon,

a man sets in the dark while hes drawing from a spoon.

An emptiness, a bump, and he thinks it sets his eyes right,

then he flops on the floor and he’s drawn into a bright light.

Then it flails him to the dark where he reaps of all the sin,

and of all his thoughts inside ones of hope there’s never been.

He’s been judged picked apart and endured so much hate,

torn to pieces from the scars, there’s no hope its too late.

Now,

Of all the things there’s always been,

the greatest two, are love and sin.

JUST TRY TO LIVE WITH LOVE,

AND BE WISE,

FOR EACH AND ALL OF US,

AT ONE DAY DIES!