Lying Becomes A Gambling Of Old Friends Poem by Daniel Richards

Lying becomes a gambling of old friends
Tickled by mercy, strangled by shame, somewhere, along the way I lost my heart and then someone tore away my soul the darkness then crept in and, she the princess enveloped me and took her stringent hold,

Your life, your mind, falls and goes underground,
Mentally cracking as the absence of truth becomes a curse, a disease. The cold may not shiver or quiver your bones but it encages your heart in the coldest of cold stone, a storm of torment now bubbles furiously up from under the sea, its a curse, its a disease

Stranded in such lonely binds, showing no mercy they take an even greater hold, as you fight aimlessly not to see, what the darkest darkness has to show, you bare witness to even grater monsters, residing where once, was your soul, a place once of mercy now just a fiery combusting furnace

Lying becomes a gambling of old friends
Tricked by the mercy overthrown by the shame, you search in darkness for the slightest of light, to shine bright for you once again, but the darkness is closer and the weight is bold, imprisoned by the pain, choking as the shadows fall and take a daring hold

the storm still bubbles from up under the sea, but you still resist, never to allow those you love and hold, bare witness to how it, the darkness has taken its toll, and that the storm which bubbles viciously, from up under the sea, is in-fact a reflection of thee, added to years of chasing, you find yourself broken feeling to old, lost and once again out of control

The crash of depression is deafening in its silence, and relentless in its grip, the beast of man, being the burden of man, is the dark knight of turmoil swift in arrival, instantly his sword spun its plan, many moons will pass in dormant light, before the relinquishment from the hold of this dark knight

Lying becomes a gambling of old friends
With the knowing of no hope and the desperation to escape a hold, mistakes lay ahead,
Pain and suffrage to those you hold dear, lying seems a virtue in comparison with the exposure of that degree of inner fear.

Lying becomes a gambling of old friends
Tickled by mercy, strangled by shame, somewhere, along the way I lost my heart and then someone tore away my soul the darkness then crept in and, she the princess enveloped me and took her stringent hold,