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Oh, burdened are the excess of humanities woes

from corner to corner,

foolish cries are caught

their expectations inject most fervently

though otherwise argued facts not prudent to the cause

withheld is my discretion,

away from all the world

never again to believe a word from lying lips that preach too much

from now until eternity,

weary are actions of this cautious mind

I am the fool


Edward J. Goodman. Too Curious. London; Guildford: Bentley & Son, 1888 — Source.

Have I lost myself?

A notable question I’m sure for amelioration is inconceivable

Too curious is a mind that covets without contrition

Perhaps too many desideration’s?

They are more like unshakable ghosts eager to haunt

To save me is to kill me, as fate just contradicts archaic modes

Integrity is in the guise of swift imagination’s making fools for fun

Where am I?

Dissipated behind the curtain, too aware of the eyes of death which is at length

I have lost myself

Continue reading “TOO CURIOUS”


Let it be, in a world without hope, void of love, deprived of happiness 

I long to die 

If memory serves, yesterday life was abundant, but eyes awoke in a hollow shell weighted heavily with despair

An awful pain claws from within, it hurts to breathe

Sadness suffocates and the veil is much too heavy to bear alone

No longer is the requirement to exist as the struggle to escape is failing


Tragically epic, life failure

Over and over

Try as I might, it matters not for the bottom is where I lay and there’s no way out as this is fate and life is now detested

Cursed is the day of my birth, a horrible day it has become

Filled with hopelessness, drowning in darkness, as evil holds true to its promise

Forbidden is the light that could salvage my soul

Destroyed is the energy to carry on 

The fantasy is trapped in a dreamless state, with no means to recover

Senses are numb and the fortitude to prevail is lost, I just don’t care to go on

Contentment is forever forfeited, never to return, not this time

The final blow has struck, it’s the knockout punch, and I don’t care to fight anymore

The Situation of Devistation


Round and round, the world rolls over thereupon,

without warning the stars begin to fall

We are now deficient of all once grasped so tightly, they are no longer near and dear

Uncivilized and nefarious are manners of unholy children with hollow minds

and love for thy neighbor is extinct nevertheless, all’s omitted to blame

Gone are the days of caring in a decade of narcissism

Who would cherish the declaration just the same?

Silent intonations forces incoherence as darkness corrupts,

turning the sweetest personage bitter

Societies infected by feculent lies and cannot be saved

Please mourn the loss of tenderness, for soon memories  forgotten

as degradation plagues the unbroken, the perfect

Ultimately, pursuits of the abhorrent will occur

Should civilization be safeguarded and benefit restoration?

Most have proven unworthiness beyond contestation

Conspire and eradicate, now is the hour of natural selection