Tag Archives: Self

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Rejection; Depression

Rejection
a Word
I Know
All too Well,
a Word
That Has Burned a Hole;
Marked my Soul.
Driven me To be a Lone.
Never to Know Home,
to Own Nothing,
But Scars I Can Not Hide;
That Multiply
With Each Passing Day.
They Weigh One After Another;
Suffer.
That Is the Bread I Break,
the Ache
of Never a Praise
or a Raise
to Lift me a Moment
From my Torment.
my Eyes Search
For Why
This Has to Be my Fate
& May Be
I Cry
Just a Little
When I Remember
It Is Too Late,
To Begin a New;
to Bloom.
So I Huddle In my Covers
& Dream Dreams of Death.
For I Have Not the Courage Yet,
to Die;
Sublime
& In my Mind
I Find
Depression At Its Best,
a Laughing Joke,
Another Poke;
That I am Neither a Live or Dead
Just Shambling Through
One More Room
In This Tomb
I Call Life
& I Wonder To my Self
Could This Be a Test;
Then I Smile;
Liar.
Don’t Bother Trying
It Will End
Just Like the Rest.
So Don’t Sit & Fret.
It Can’t Be Met,
Perhaps It’s Time
to Rile Up
the Demons In your Breast;
To Summon Up
All the Angst & Hate
& Serve Them Up a Bitter Plate
Rife With Gun & Knife.
So They May Share
the Loss That Is my Life.
These Are the Things
That Swirl Through my Brain,
That Drive me InSane;
Red,
Raw,
Murder.
Shall I Take your Hand
ForSake This Land
or Am I too Weak,
Another Loss I Think.
Another Rejection
to Add to my List of Depression,
a Debilitating Disease
That Will Have you On your Knees.
Not Good For a Thing
That Is How It Has me
With Out
Hope
#B27321 

https://theprose.com/post/146018/rejection-depression

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Eugène Delacroix

Eugène Delacroix

Leighton’s Projector 

I Have Done It.
I Have Created the Projector,
a Portal to Another Dimension.

X

or What Ever the Inhabitants

of This Hellish World,
the Shadow People Call It.
Long Have I Fought

These Delusions of a Fragmented Mind.
Now,
They Will Find

That my Insanity was No Laughter.
That These Were the Demons

That Escaped the Chest,
Till Only Hope was Left.
These Were the Maladies,
Our Second Selves.
All Our Fears & Self Loathing,
Like Diseased Bags In the Wind.
Purge This Land

Till Only God Man Is Left Standing,
We can Win.

Taken From
the Private
Journals
of #B27321
Last Son
of a
Fallen Line 

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1340827-monthly-short-fiction-contest—win-a-50-amazon-gift-card-or-paypal-pri?comment=143577591&page=5#comment_143577591

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Aubrey Beardsley

Aubrey Beardsley

I Seem

to Travel

Through Time
Between

your Thighs
a Glimpse

Of you

&

I
Further Down

the Line
Though

a Key
Unlocking

Part Of

your Mystery
your Secret

Self
the Mask

Ripped Off
I Just

Dream
#B27321

https://fridayflashchallenge.wordpress.com/2015/11/14/time-travel/

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