A Monumental Disappointment
And we walked further down Main Street, now in silence as the dizzying toxics took over. Too much spirit had caused my mind to drift to times before this night, as I sit in my room, lights off, music playing, and rage pouring through every wall. Not my own rage; that of the ones who raised me, and showed false love to each other in the prescence of all but themselves. Those who lied about our family, and were quick to reassure me that their problems reflected upon me in no way, shape, and form.
My refuge for a year was all I could think of, and the many pain-staking nights I spent in that cell, pleading for an answer. Yelling for intervention. I screamed at life, at god, at the spirits and angels who were supposed to help, but my screams could not be heard above the war that continued all around.
My mind filtered through the past thoughts and soon focused on one particular night. During a night similar, when the rain had not stalled, and it fell fiercely in a blistering gale, blackness was all anyone could see, except for when the lightning struck. How I wished that night to be below the lightning's piercing strike. How I wished that night, like all the rest, to end this feud which continues still today. As the bolts struck, the darkened room would briefly illuminate, showing still no escape from the problems.
Brooding I sat, waiting for the hope left in the box to make it's way into my room. And as morning lightened my sordid spirit, I rose dismissing all. No answer could be found I bellowed through the empty house, my parents having left their fighting in favor of their daily jobs. I began my morning preparations for a new day of school and false attitudes of joy to all those who surrounded me.
As I rejected hope for relief, I soon found that I was as bad as the parents who had caused this dismal situation, and that my falsities were what truly denied me any type of answer, any type of closure.
I returned to the street, where my legs still moved in unison to the others, and I realized the truth that was now settling down upon my poisoned mind. while it would still take months to truly answer the questions I had posed during my escape, a seed was planted and tis that which is the most important.
My refuge for a year was all I could think of, and the many pain-staking nights I spent in that cell, pleading for an answer. Yelling for intervention. I screamed at life, at god, at the spirits and angels who were supposed to help, but my screams could not be heard above the war that continued all around.
My mind filtered through the past thoughts and soon focused on one particular night. During a night similar, when the rain had not stalled, and it fell fiercely in a blistering gale, blackness was all anyone could see, except for when the lightning struck. How I wished that night to be below the lightning's piercing strike. How I wished that night, like all the rest, to end this feud which continues still today. As the bolts struck, the darkened room would briefly illuminate, showing still no escape from the problems.
Brooding I sat, waiting for the hope left in the box to make it's way into my room. And as morning lightened my sordid spirit, I rose dismissing all. No answer could be found I bellowed through the empty house, my parents having left their fighting in favor of their daily jobs. I began my morning preparations for a new day of school and false attitudes of joy to all those who surrounded me.
As I rejected hope for relief, I soon found that I was as bad as the parents who had caused this dismal situation, and that my falsities were what truly denied me any type of answer, any type of closure.
I returned to the street, where my legs still moved in unison to the others, and I realized the truth that was now settling down upon my poisoned mind. while it would still take months to truly answer the questions I had posed during my escape, a seed was planted and tis that which is the most important.