Inside These Hollow Walls Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

The mood of writing.
The music inside your head.
Can you not hear it because I can?
It sways me, it portrays me.
It even betrays me.
Telling my secrets in a rhyme and rhythm.
If you just listen you will understand.
No matter the pace.
No matter the place.
The context of a inner medium.
The siren of deep, with wisdom to keep.
Whisper from beyond the grave, placed upon such a fickle stage.
A change could come from any direction at any moment.
Separations of thoughts.
With a knife I start to cut.
Take my pain, take my hate, take my love.
As sick and twisted as it might be.
I am left emotionless, fully drain yet so happy.
Give me the unending sounds of the entire universe.
I will write till my hand bleeds.
It is not greed, it is relief.
It is traveling in to a different reality.
Not that this one is so bad.
But some experiences can be only visualized.
For there are things that can never be reached.
Our arms are just not long enough.
Mr. Rubber Band Man, doing his stretch again.
An exercise of the mind.
Continuously fighting.
There can never be a good enough ending.
Not to this.
Not even if one puts in a thorough effort.
Training for the great Olympics.
As if it is a continuous competition.
But your adversary is right in the mirror.
Oh the reflections, dissecting the thoughts of perfection.
It can not be to a infinity indefinitely.
The melting of truly morbid scene.
Words are plastered all over our pretty walls.
With little care, with little re-approach.
But how do we do it so much in so little time?
The cost of a pen and some paper.
Shooting down a monster with some lasers.
But the reality is all you are doing is trying to work out problem within you.
A conflict of inner self.
Placed upon the highest shelf.
Oh how each time I want to reach for it so badly.
Again and again.
Repeating and expanding the sights to see.
A child playing simple little tricks.
Throwing stones and sticks.
The window was broken.
But now it is fixed.
A magical sensation it becomes.
Because somethings can be undone.
Even if in some contexts they can not.
All you have to is give it a shot.