(02-12-2016, 07:37 AM)IvanXLIV Wrote: Hello all.

Inspiration is not always rosy and bright... sometimes, darker feelings creep up when the hour is late, and they demand their share of the stage . As an experiment, I let this somber mood guide my writing - and below is the result. Strangely, it proved to be quite liberating; I feel renewed and at peace, almost as if a fever has abated... so, no need to worry about me .

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Alone

 
 
I watch, helpless and forlorn, the scene unfolding;
Lost in a sea of bodies, forgotten flotsam
Smothered within the crowd, in oblivion sinking,
Drowning, to the point I doubt who I really am...
 
So painstakingly I seek familiar faces...
Where are they? The painful red letters "OFFLINE"
Mock me. Everyone is gone, leaving no traces
The cold, calamitous truth is solely mine...
 
I am on my own.
 
I scour the vastitude of the forums, looking
For a sign: kind words, reassurance most desired...
Nothing. Green poison then spread in my veins, cloying,
When I stumble on their private talks unobserved.
 
Cold fire burns within my chest, twisting my soul...
Dark thoughts thunder about in my mind, stoking rage;
I resent them so! Never has envy so foul
Possessed me; mayhap I should just depart the stage...
 
Still on my own.
 
We are human consumables, obsolescence
Planned from the beginning; playthings soon discarded
For the next cheap thrill. And the cost? Our innocence,
Assuredy. Alas, mine was poorly guarded.
 
Nothing left to say, nothing left to feel either;
What's left then? An empty husk, a discarded shell
And yet, somehow, drained and listless, in a fever
I trudge onward, stricken, bound for my private hell.
 
Ever on my own.