you try to go on with your life as if it is in a normal pace. you pretend and go on with the flow even if it continues to sear your flesh and let the blood flow endlessly on the pavement of hatred. you leave a world behind that wasn't even there to begin with. fingers point to you as if you are the accused in the court of deafs. no one hears you out and you are sentenced to live your very existence into solitude.
tears won't matter for they fall on barren lands. voices won't matter, for they fall on deaf ears.
people tell you that you're nothing. you are not part of a world that they created. why? do they belong in yours? sometimes, correction, most of the times, what you do to release the anger pent up inside, can't save you. there's no one there to make you feel alright, when things go wrong.
how you wish that the people you hate, wait, loathe, are hanging by their necks amongst the rafters of the highest building.
you cry to the wind.
eyes that see, are blind.
people lie to save their own skins. to catch you in their own web of lies. one lie, leads to another. they tell you that you're friends, when they were never there when you were to fall into a pit of daggers waiting your fate, which they created especially for you.
you silently curse the very life they breathe.
in your solace, you picture their bodies on the table. inch by inch, the knife cuts thru their skins, while they writhe in pain. each vein bulge thru their skins. you could see life passing thru those veins. you know they don't deserve such life. they crush your very existence.
they tell you what they want you to hear.
in your presence they're digging their own graves. six-feet under. the light turns into dark.
not even last requests are granted. what for? they never granted yours either.
if only forgiveness were money, then i would be a billion-dollars richer. but even that can't save them... call upon angels that aren't there.... you buried yourself long time ago.
tears won't matter for they fall on barren lands. voices won't matter, for they fall on deaf ears.
people tell you that you're nothing. you are not part of a world that they created. why? do they belong in yours? sometimes, correction, most of the times, what you do to release the anger pent up inside, can't save you. there's no one there to make you feel alright, when things go wrong.
how you wish that the people you hate, wait, loathe, are hanging by their necks amongst the rafters of the highest building.
you cry to the wind.
eyes that see, are blind.
people lie to save their own skins. to catch you in their own web of lies. one lie, leads to another. they tell you that you're friends, when they were never there when you were to fall into a pit of daggers waiting your fate, which they created especially for you.
you silently curse the very life they breathe.
in your solace, you picture their bodies on the table. inch by inch, the knife cuts thru their skins, while they writhe in pain. each vein bulge thru their skins. you could see life passing thru those veins. you know they don't deserve such life. they crush your very existence.
they tell you what they want you to hear.
in your presence they're digging their own graves. six-feet under. the light turns into dark.
not even last requests are granted. what for? they never granted yours either.
if only forgiveness were money, then i would be a billion-dollars richer. but even that can't save them... call upon angels that aren't there.... you buried yourself long time ago.
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