The Wreckage of a Life by bitterregret, literature
Literature
The Wreckage of a Life
Headed towards the burning light
Skin singed as he passed through its safe grace
Burnt up in the passersby's sight
An image that is hard to face.
His life was nothing but smiles.
We thought it would go on for miles.
A twisted cage captures eyes.
Shattered glass reflects the life inside.
Headlight flickers out and dies.
Within the darkness the tears hide.
His life was nothing but smiles.
We thought it would go on for miles.
A bright light fading in the fire
Cold eyes looking in the shattered mirror
The mind is gone but the heart beats on.
Let him rest and let us grieve.
The line files down, but the stories live on.
The hand we
Life is a cruel and heartbreaking mistress. It is a black void that breeds hate and anguish while the souls of the tortured scream out, but no one can hear them. This comes from the heart, the same heart that pumps the black oil as it streams from my eyes when I see the fire that burns in every street as the people hold what they once loved: themselves. This will forever be in my mind, the same mind that contemplates the anguish of every day: the pattern that we live, the zombies that walk through the corridors. They have a mind of their own, but a bullet rips through it with each passing day, and the living dead die a little more.
I find it hard to believe things are looking up.
There's no room for pleasure in a life filled with pain.
My heart feels so weak. I think it will erupt.
I'll add to the anguish, 'cause there's nothing to gain.
The skin splits as I separate from life,
but the pain and sorrow come together to manifest my strife.
Pushed against the cold edge, I freeze and start to crack.
My life starts to leak out although it's what I lack.
The scars across my body show the roadmap of my torturer.
A series of streets that lead to nowhere
narrow to an end.
As I follow them all the way my hopes will suspend.
Across the room is where you'll always be,
but everyday you'll try to sit by me.
I'll be cliché and say it's not you,
and I'll keep regretting what never flew.
(You'll always be) at arms length away.
(You'll always be) at arms length away.
(You'll always be) at arms length away.
(You'll always be) You'll always be apart of me while you'll always be a part from me.
What should I do when given attention?
Should my arms break because of the tension?
Will you hold my arm and help it heal
although I'll remain as cold as steel?
(You'll always be) at arms length away.
(You'll always be) at arms length away.
(You'll always be) at arms