Solace Poem by Justin Long

O'er the approaching madness,

Was their worry alight,
By a sun ever creeping,
Graves riddled beneath a canopy of the brightest light,
Covering the roots of the tree who,
By any other name would make sound the phrase,
Life hath gone and passed my by,
Beseeched that I may change my ways,

Wrapped up of seemingly confident rehearse,
Master of deceit, of darkness and worse,
Filtered through the strain of every downtrodden move made,
Lyrically though flattering timing isn't the only cliche',
So when I say it I mean it,
In passing,
In hesitation,
In desperation,
In realization,
In love,
In lust.

In ever so carefully worded ballads like ballistae through this broken, shell of a whole of a heart.

Burnt carcasses of every lie and wasted promise along the path lain before thee
Inspected by the inner workings of a hollow man.

A hollow heart,
A feeble attempt at normalcy,
Overshadowed by the beauty in his darkness,
The pain,
A struggle,
A journey,
The reckoning.

Stricken with the heat of a snuffed out flame,
Of an adversary proven time and time again to succeed,
Wherewithal exceeded and will tainted with blame,
Characteristically ruined if you believe what you read,

An exclamation: "WOE! ",
For I have thoughts and a brain,
Yet I'm too scared to live
And I'm not quite sane,
To live is to risk and to love is to live,
So, in stride, I have decided,

To: The Past
I have nothing to give.