The Specters of the Frenetic Glade

As I sit among the tragedies that consumed my soul, I forget to leave them behind me when I continue forth

My loneliness speaks in the voice of a child never loved

My selfishness speaks in one who always gives but now only takes

My anger untangles yet the cause of the fire was long since passed

The ashes and embers singeing the helping hands that reach

A lone voice drifts through the isle of the lost

Singing loud with one median of self that was never forgotten

Hoping that one day kindness will spur, not from need of connection

Not for need to keep people close

Not because of the fear of loss

But to simply exist as its own beacon of light

Giving with no regard to what was lost

May I lift my head from this bitterness that the past has birthed

And greet the world that lives with me now

History need not repeat itself when new lessons are learned

I cannot keep hiding in my pain

Screaming that it burns at the hand that feeds

Telling myself that I am better

Wiser

Kinder

When in reality I am sour as the rest

I simply hold my head higher

But the mask is slipping

And the cracks cut hands that are not my own

As the abused becomes the abuser..new wounds are made from the hands that once shielded

Intent does not change your weight on the world

I want to go home

I don’t feel good

The hands of fate conducting trial after trial

The true meaning of solace unclear to a lonely god

I was never above them and now I sink below

I want to be perceived

Misa Misa is so tired but always cute

ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏɴᴇ

ᴏʜ ꜱʜᴇ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴛᴇ

ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴡᴇʟʟ ᴏɴ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜱ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴇ ᴋᴇʏ