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Array
(
[sid] => 104172
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Walk upon Razor's Edge
[time] => 2005-08-22 17:14:39
[hometext] => The second chapter of
[bodytext] => WALK UPON RAZOR’S EDGE I feel this emotion of torture, a pain that seems to need relief. The fear is immense; the anxiety is growing out of control. I can’t understand, I feel it growing within, afraid of letting it go, cannot afford to make the same mistake. I cannot stop it. It’s a demon that feeds off of my negativity. It bites back with intense agony. Hitting me in my weakest of times, I cannot defend from the phantoms. They work though my mental barrier, bringing me to my hidden secrets. Unexpectedly they strike, unpredictable they remind me. The walk upon the razor’s edge is haunted by the evils of truth. All alone they torment me… I cry for help, no one listens. Hiding away the truth masked by why people see, there is no other known way They take from my food, leaving me deprived… scared and hungry for relief, I craw from my shield. Now I understand. A test of faith and will… for I have failed. A loss understood nothing gained in return. A wait for help, sitting here as they bite away, the line I am walking is cutting through. The blade of dreams lies a guilty past. This lapse of eternity seems to never cease, always present. The talk of hope, far in sight with the lack of belief and trust clouds everlasting life. The fall is ongoing never stopping, picking up speed as the rock plummets from the sky. Without a gust, momentum increases. A crashing view ahead, never seems to come but always seen. A life of darkness and no helpful light, things get darker and darker. No one knows who he his as he knows not of himself, but of the demon within, a creature causing a life of trouble and dysfunction. Torn of his origin, lost in the realm of life, he reaches out his arm. Only scars appear of neglect. The very own neglect from the demon within. Cannot focus, always lost… he loses hope. Once appears a beaming light, blinding him. As a last attempt the demonic impulse takes from him once again. The pain and fear break free If he could take back the beating of knowledge from the blade, and have the strength to never learn… would he have saved himself? Walking the gates of Hell in hope of bring one to the stairway, his angels grasps him and pulls him through. Searching for a light and comfort of the burning sensation, he bleeds for life. Walking back through, they pull but his will drives on, now exhausted… he lies hopeless. He only dreams of a hand to lift him up. Now back on the feet of life, his memories haunt within his sanctuary with doors locked. Breaking through the wounds of his blood-stained glass, they reflect his pain. Now in confessional he tells his story, now the penance is to be done. It is to face his brokenness, to teach or hide, to pray and learn, to compromise and to wait once again, but yet fight the sins of his church, to reform his faith, and come out new This is a story of someone I once knew. Walk on razor's edge, alone I stand...... the darkness of pain overwhelming....... someone please save me. Suffering still to this day, why cannot the kingdom take it all away? [comments] => 3 [counter] => 223 [topic] => 13 [informant] => His_3_Nails [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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