Each and every evening I see myself as such a monster, cursed, corrupt, and crumbling, fit only for petty loathing and an endless sense of dread.
Dawn however is another story. Whereby, even If I do not know you, I will smile at you, laugh with you, and lie to you, all in the hopes to wish you well. Never, however, will I think myself a part of you, fit or free'd to share those joy's you hold so tender, and so dear.
Mind you, I am not jealous, as those wonders were only mine in passing, and if i'd ever felt I could truly achieve them, why perhaps my will might still go on. But, as you might have surmised, I have not, and I am wary.
I have enough youth to still defy you, enough age to move, and guide you, and as I smile before your countenance, I will only scowl before my own.
I never wanted this life, I don't want it still. Yet in it's wake I have been brother and son, protector and lover, guide and beguiler, even hero and friend. Ever still, I see no morning, ever still I find no solace, no reprieve or aspiration, no lasting fight to let me stand.
I fear the lights are fading. I know those shadow's are rising, and I simply don't have the vigor to contend with them anymore.
Forgive me. If there are angels, let them find me. I am losing myself, and what is lost cannot return.
thewickedjoke thewickedjoke
36-40, M
2 Responses Aug 23, 2014

This is beautiful, and I feel the same way.

I feel the same here. The world is cold and dark.