The Unforgiving Moon Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

The madness of it.
How could you ever say that?
Fluffed up wishes and premature kisses.
We have just met, and already it feels as if we are going places I'm not willing go.
So we have somethings in common.
With heart of gold, maybe it is still not enough.
A card left to wish you well.
The loneliness victim of this hell.
There is no happily ever after.
At least in my mind.
Always living with second best.
Because the first is still yet come.
And upon all the waiting and drifting in and out consciousnesses.
What is it exactly we have become?
Sinner or saint.
In such a world how do I even begin to equate?
Maybe the horse was just not fast enough.
Maybe the race wasn't meant for all to win.
The bruised becomes the broken.
And with the rubbing of my shins.
Where did all these scars exactly come from anyways?
When I have been sitting so quietly numb.
The melodic twists.
More downs then ups.
And my hearts is always telling mind to just shut up.
Just go with it.
You can do no better.
Accomplishment for whom?
Why are you still trying so hard?
Why haven't you already given up?
Accepting things for the way are.
What if I told you it is a pill I will never be willing to swallow.
No matter how sweet the flavor.
Temporary is all that can ever be savored.
And I can never be satisfied with excuses and reasons to leave all these questions unanswered.
The spreading of a mutation of a cancer.
Give me the cure and watch me become the next dancer.
An out right stripper at least in my mind anyways.
And sometimes that is all that matters.
It's the thought that counts when you are so in doubt.
Counting the seconds, how does this fickle time really make a difference?
If it is synonym for our mortality.
Why are we not capable failure?
Why can't we admit our weakness and move on?
A kiss of the dice, throwing them twice.
Does this make us anymore lucky?
In the game of fortunate few.
There are those who matter, and those who don't.
Which one are you?
The classes that ever divides.
Wider and wider.
This rift is not something someone can just easily overcome.
A design of intention.
The mentally ills guinea pigs cage.
There is just no way out not without killing a few of your own.
Rubber bullets and crush cigarets.
Burnout and still approaching death.
Let it be quick.
Let the pain not leave a single shiver.
Fear to yet overcome.
Into the darkness forgetting about it all.
The blackest moon I've ever seen.
It is like it really trying to come clean.
The absent of colors to redeem.
This is her tonight on a very erie twilight.