The Accused

The fingers all pointed at the accuser, ME I was charged with betrayal, for standing on an unwavering foundation of strength My pillars of strength had no virtue or stadium to entertain and withstand the onslaught that followed My failures jutted out like jagged edges of a sharpened knife. All of my sins were imprinted on these hands of clay, These images brushing my drifting conscience hurt me so bad To make my feelings known is so hard to think out loud These just the darkest, darkened, darkness. My soul, heart and mind are at war. Brimming revelations of convoluted lies tread this fight There are constant blackouts and intermittent flashes of light. Guess I chose the wrong side, my precious heart but stopped, shriveled and died Numb to the world and feeling. I can’t speak. Bruised lips with no words to compute or comprehend. What is life worth living for, if your sense of touch and feel is naught? Where’d I go wrong? When did all what we had go to waste? I guess no retort is strong enough to compete with these notions Piercing lights of reason try to penetrate my mind’s eye, But there is nothing left to pique my interests, That door has long been closed, pressed shut. Now all I hear is muffled whispers of defeat and the rattling of restraints My inner most demons roaming around, looking for a way out. All that’s left of me is nothing but an empty shell and Once again I am on the outside, looking into the inside. Geniuskin