Ace Of Black Hearts

Bronze Star - 2,519 Points (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

What Sits Before Me - Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

Fighting just to breath.
Fighting just to see.
Fighting just to be.

Through these clouds.
A divided shroud.
And my heart pounds.
So scared of what it'll take to be free.
A unpredictable destiny.
With fortunes at the hands of no one.
A unmeasurable mercy.
I'm begging you please.
I'm tired of being stuck in the middle of the angels killing fields.
And I can do nothing to stop it.
A topic I just can't drop.

Fighting just to breath.
Fighting just to see.
Fighting just to be.

A mere existence that by itself means nothing.
What is done with it is something.
As I reach the bottom of another bottle.
I realize I still feel so hollow.
An empty shell wishing for a escape from this hell.
Make a offer I'll take it.
Trading my soul to the devil.
Let the sickness take.
Let the rotten melody escape.

Fighting just to breath.
Fighting just to see.
Fighting just to be.

An unending cancer.
The saints are up there still dancing.
A party that is never ending.
Ignoring every part me.
Ignoring every sigh and scream.
Completely abandon.
I just can't take it.
I just can't take it any more.
Their has to be end to this monotonous slow death sentence.
I feel all options have fully explored.
I have the key but it is the wrong one.
Secrets must be unlocked by some one.
Is that suppose to be me?
A question that eats at me.
Everyday its repeated.
The evil has already been seeded and sown.

Fighting just to breath.
Fighting just to see.
Fighting just to be.

I can't understand it.
It is beyond my reason of the logical kind of thinking.
Mentally I thinking I'm breaking down.
A wheel that has been on the road for way to long.
The tread is already to far gone.
A darker then normal dawn.
A dead looking newborn fawn.
Skinny and underfed.
Not getting enough sleep.
With dreams of the yet to come.

The yet to come.
A godless world.
A concerning set circumstances sits before me.
I know what's wrong.
But no one will ever listen to such little voice.
Feeling like mouse making his squeaks.
While the lion roars.

This is why,
This is why I'm
Fighting just to breath.
Fighting just to see.
Fighting just to be.

Just to be my mere existence sits before me.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 25, 2012



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