Yours truly, your conscience

I'm dead...

I've been this way for long now.

Death's dull, never changing

and always possessive, never letting me go.

Unlike life; she never took me in:

rather let me go, without a second thought.

I'm innocent, I'd let you know,

before you presume any guilt on my part.

I'm clueless as to why I was abandoned.

But I'm silent...as I'll always be...

...and dead.

I lay mute, and at peace with my suffering

My only hope, my father, looks the other way.

I had looked onto him with my hopes high

He'd nurture me to my prime, instead murdered me.

With mild sadistic ecstasy in his heart

he writes my last words.

“Yon Death, my love

With thou have I betrothed

Tho' I shalt parry with thee

Eternal battle to win thy love

Thou shalt once set me free”

“Yon Death, my love

To thee do I beg and beseech

Grant me my freedom

I shan't forsake thee

As my father hath, pray, me.

Have me into thy warm tomb

and nurture my lifeless self.”

The writing stops...

I realize I've been forsaken...again.

Like an incorrigible child,

I keep my hopes up,

waiting for the words to come.

But my trust decays slowly

and I lay...mute...and dead.

Hope Advocacy

Don't hold on, my friend
it's time to let go;
it's time to close those eyes
it's time for you to know.

You'd lie for you to be alive
you'd pray the times to slow
you'd fret and fight to save the lie
but it's time for that to show.

They're wrong, your thoughts
They're wrong, your beliefs
You've been living in a dream, my friend
of the sweet dreary eyes,
the sad tinkle of lies
and of the long and loud screams.

Break open the doors,
Walk out to the world
where your dreams, your whims
would follow your heart.
Caress your eyes with the beauty outside.
Stretch those lips when you're happy inside.

The world's not bad,
if you're willing to find
A grain of solitude
in the middle of the night.
You'd find some solace
that I'm willing you to take
in mysterious ways
the void would be at stake.

I'd throw some light
for you to see,
your fallen self
in front of me.
I'd pick you up;
I'd dust your head;
I'd stab the blue
you'd laugh instead.
I'll help you sure
and the hurt would mend.
It's time to let go
Don't hold on, my friend.