Beaten

The shadows are my home, where i remain to hide my scars. The scars of my worn compassion, the tears of my heart, and fire where love used to be. Happiness is

clouded by misery and hostility. Sanity is run thin and my true self is being scared off, the clues hint me towards the fact that those who show a beating heart get beaten and stomped on. Instead people crave money and blood. "Yeah, who cares if you lost a loved one? There's now bigger bullets for our guns!" You don't get respect until you show your war-scars or you have wealth. They call you a pussy if you cry, but what else can you do? Ignoring could get you killed, but observing it makes even the strongest breakdown. Although through the agony, and through the sorrow, i still find a reason to keep on pushing. She with the hammer is who i used to fight for, now shes the one beating my head in. My new reason fights the pain with tears and it prevails, my new reason can brighten any spirit by touch, my new reason is everything i am not. However, even my new reason struggles to pull me out of the ground, this is the affliction that requires whats left of MY strength, to get up and start fighting again, the question is...will i gather enough fortitude to levitate over my pain and let the tears that fall become the missiles that corrupt it. I'm still alive, I still have a fighting chance, and it will be taken advantage of..

Original Creation - 6/30/2012