A tragic genius of words or so they say, by a few compared to Hemmingway
I'm just a peon, a nobody of rate, could never be that great
Penning my words from the heart for whoever to see
I've tried so hard to live, of myself to give to no avail
Things are not as they were, you'd never recognize me now.
I put my trust in others only to be betrayed, a dagger piercing my shattered heart
Now an unwanted child of darkness, in my veins cursed blood flows black
Broken, discarded, taken from me all that I am, left my spirit, my soul damned
Also taken, my dignity, my pride, my heart, nothing left to save.
But alas you see nothing really truly matters in the end.
Knowing this I have no real reason to live, to go on.
I turn to my friends, Jack, Evan, Jim, and Van Gogh to drown away the pain.
For they listen to me when noone else it seems gives a damn.
And if they don't Bud, Mich, and Miller always will.
Alas I know not what to do now that I have allowed you to beat me.
How can I go on as just an empty  shell of the man I once was?
For you see I have no life so to speak, I merely exist, if you can call it that.
Becoming so scared of life that I am afraid to be who I truly am, the real me
At one time I braved the sacrificial flames, entered your sacred circle, for the briefest of times.
Only to have it ripped from me and into purgatory I was hurled, never again to enter the circle.
Don't worry about me, you never really have, so why try to start now!
For I live in my world, depression, and it don't mesh with yours, happiness, never has, probably never will.
Just leave me to rot, the nothing, the failure, the screw up, for I am what I am and that's all that I am.
So what if I eternally lay in a pauper's grave, a giant hole.
For I long for something I'll never have again, to face the brisk north wind and for my eyes to behold the beauty and happiness of new day.
Somewhere, somehow I strayed from the right hand path, now given up on that light from other time.
A gray soul that can't see the existence of true darkness that is life.
For one can not see the darkness of the left hand path when that is all that one knows, for thats where I dwell.
My life my own, my demons mine to deal with, might as well embrace them ain't got the strength to fight them any longer.
Now I know why I'll never see heaven, not that I care to anymore anyway.
For one can never fly with the angels when one dwells in Acheron, Hades, in the bowels of Hell.
Alas it is time to pay Charon, and take my place...Au Revoir!
 

                                        From The Pen Of.....
                                                 THE
                                              GATEKEEPER