Oh so Late

Oh so late, but not late enough to hear the stars scream and cry for me to close my eyes. While I lay upon a make shift cloud, disowned from a world I know nevering knowing the monsters I faced between what I believe to convince is real and whats a dream.

Oh yet so let must it be never for me to pick up the very thing that taunts me and becoming a ghost of my own for i was always the one haunting this house, yet with every word my small hands may write will it every be enough for you to cry?

Will my cries of hell bring you to my door step knocking? Begging to return to a lost soul you never met yet lived within for so many words? Will my pages be enough to keep you from falling to far within every crack of a seemingly dysfunction sanity?

For I am no god. I live on as a hidden shadow that dwells within the presents of death calling out names of the dammed in hope they turn the page because I may not be able to create nor destroy a hell we live within but I can lend an empiranon words built upon stars and a broken soul and one day hoping I'll find away home for it is much to late to be singing at the stars this late at night.