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Alone

Strange...but you learn to love it.

By Michael GrubePublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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2009

Alone in the dark feeling;

Around in the dark seething.

Hoping for some kind of light;

Wishing for anywhere that's bright.

Wondering when all will end;

When all other ends are spent.

Death seems better to me now;

That life I never know how.

Once was saved, but now am lost;

Paying with all the devil's cost.

Of choices made to turn my back;

And watching all my morals slack.

The demons' price is hard to pay;

Regret to haunt me everyday.

Wanting with all to turn back

The rusty hands of time on track.

Maybe soon all will fall;

Maybe soon to lose it all;

Maybe soon all will turn ;

Maybe soon all will burn.

All I can do is live today;

Paying all with which to pay.

In my mind I will try to say,

All will be paid in time someday.

No never will pain leave me;

Destined to never again be free.

Wondering how this came to be;

Wishing, hoping, again to see.

Living is better than dying I think;

Wanting to float rather than sink.

Into the chains forged for me;

Hoping to stand, and break free.

In the light is where hides the key;

Damned forever to the sea.

Of flames and anguish, unless I find

That source of light inside my mind.

Buried so deep under the pain,

And hate I have felt to go insane.

The only map to find the way

Was destroyed the moment I went astray.

So search I will til' times end,

To find that map once again.

To again pray unto the seeker;

Of the only and one gate keeper.

The only one that holds the fell,

And the keys of death and hell.

The Lion of Judah pray to hard;

And mend the heart torn to shard.

Return I will to that place of peace;

Back to that place of mind at ease;

Wandering no more in this darkness;

Clawing my way through virtual blindness.

The light of the king is the only true way.

The mighty fortress of hope and stay.

Turn I will before disaster;

Hope in the streets of alabaster.

As darkness closes all around me,

My enemies sensing the wound to bleed.

I must stand alone in shining light,

And pray to the Lion for His might.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Michael Grube

I am 36 years old, an Army veteran, and officially divorced. I have been writing since i was young and have always been told that I have a knack for it. I've tried my writing a few novels, but my heart lies within poetry and journalism.

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