Personal pain and paths that I have trod
Through it all you are the rock in which I hide
In you I will always and forever abide
With depths unknown
As I trust you through green pastures
The place in which I have come to know so well
Running through the fields of laughter
Oh such joy and peace
Oh to walk alongside the saviors blessed feet
Ahhh, the Master comes
Oh how I long for His presence
But somehow I always seem to run
Why I do this? I do not yet know
Yet He always bids me, "come"
The answers to life's questions I do not yet know
I do know the guide in which we all can be restored
How do you explain
Personal pain
And all that it entails
It makes you feel miserable
And drives you off the rails
All your days seem dreary
And for you, the sun doesn't shine
Your mind and bones are weary
Both of them are in decline.
Your voice begins to waver,
Your taste is going fast
Things you used to savour
Have become a thing of the past
You do not feel like talking
As you don't want to show
Visitors are not welcome
And you can't wait for them to go
If I keep my mouth shut
And keep a false smile on my face.
Will they understand
Or think I have no grace,
I do not want to be ungracious
Or be unkind in any way
I feel like being on my own
I do not want to play
Silly games full of idle chatter
I am too tired to debate,
On essential things that matter,
I do not want the pain I feel
To affect others that's unfair,
I can manage on my own
When I am out of the glare
In this troubled world today
People are suffering in silence
It should not be this way
If they speak out, they realise
There is a price to pay.
Wait,
is to stretch the moment now
beyond its curvature
dimensional...
Now is synonymous of absence,
wait is presence symptom
even if water passed, river running
melting snow, molten metal
to make a future not belonging...
tô the prime dreamer !
Wait is voidness of life,
unqualified aftermath
of the great tragedy...
Wait is search
of partnership for personal pain,
and summoning spirits
so that they suffer together
with the sufferer...
Waiting is a delusion
endless of the ethereal
that will never be concrete...
Is vapor of memories,
is source fulcrum
nonexistent,
is the sanity of madness
and the dreadful dream
of the unfortunate...!
From shallows, let’s live tuned to strains our own,
Leaving shadows of life, let’s live our own.
If ocean of emptiness should abound,
Drowning personal pain let’s give to get grown.
Blossoming buds bloom, fragrance freshens air,
Leaving thorns’ reign, let’s on fragrance get drawn.
Mirrors reveal to reflect what we are,
Why on a masked face cleave to play unknown?
Far from the reign of mirage all around,
Prone to give more, let’s not receive alone.
As he approached me,
I pretended not to see him
He was very thin,
a shell of a man
Had snot running out his nose
Wore raggedy rain showered,
sun dried clothes
His body bear the stench
of places God only knows
And as we passed each other,
I averted my eyes
Cowardly, I didn't want to see
the abject sadness in his eyes
To my shame,
I offered not even a polite hello ...
nothing personal to acknowledge his existence
To my shame,
I wondered not what was his name
Didn't want to come in contact
with his pain
This frail man wore a wrinkled face
of a thousand slights
He had sunken, hollow eyes:
haunting optical illusions
of countless lonesome nights
No doubt, he slept in places
where many unrealized hopes had died
Abandoned dreams ... empty houses
on a desolated street of discarded destinies
To my shame,
I extended no small kindness
to alleviate his personal pain
I was sore afraid
that I was looking at my future self,
and someone else
was treating me the same
Welcome to the Thunderdome,
come see the man with no name
He's wild,
he's crazy
He's beautiful,
he's insane
This apocalyptic Road Warrior
is driven by demons of personal pain
He's wild,
he's crazy
He's beautiful,
he's insane
In his previous life,
Mad Max was his name
Welcome to the Thunderdome,
where two men enter,
and one man leave
New world justice
is the same as the old, I do believe
Everyone comes to the Thunderdome
to see someone get killed
So don't bust the deal,
or you will have to spin the wheel
Man with no name
and the flowing silver mane,
it's time to jump bold
Go hop in your souped up car,
and race down Fury Road
Forlorn is a word
Describing a state of loss
One’s personal pain.
Dejected,losing
The love we lived with.
Down and no way up.
Travelling blindly
This tunnel of stone and grit
We hope to emerge,
Our childhood was selfish reign
did nothing but cause personal pain
our parents did naught for the self-worth gain
but ridiculed us into shame.
All our lives we tried to change
the internal dialogue negative was
rejection hounded like a savage dog
not able to let go of its forming fog.
We ran away to seek our fortunes
but self destruct was meant to be
life was hard, a test you see
the best wasn't meant to be.
The least we knew, but wanted more
why not settle the shameful score
because rejection sits at the core
keeping love outside the door.
I know the answer! Self-help books adorn
read with fever but left forlorn
happiness clouded as I now morn
left wishing I was never born.
Everything I've tried was to heal
this became my Achilles Heel.
The wheel of life, the circle done
I accept my lot, rejection won.
Im a living disgrace
a Personification of self hate
a walking representation of "what a waste"
my personal pain and anquish rises up and radiates
it cuts me down and chops me in to peices
Till theres nothing left of me at all
Im losing this battle
between my mind ,me and the rest of reality
and all the while everyone has helped me fall
they have helped to fall further into the point of no return
and im discinegrating
and its pathedic
cause no one will care
when there truely is
nothing left of me
just wait and see
ill die without a name
a star that never shined
it burned out before it reached anyones eyes
Ill be the song you never sing*
the rythm you never will hear
I will always be a burnt out star with no name
because I never even
Existed
They say to worship to get back into church
That all I need do is fall to my knees and repent
Then all this personal pain he will prevent
To kneel and pray to “The Soveriegn God”
Well, my knees are bruised and scabbed
Where is this God of yours I ask
Guess I’m not really a fan of his work
As I walk through this existence
Sufferring is all I see
War in the desert neverending
Children dying so young
Little boys and girls raped by the clergy
Destruction Hate Crimes against humanity
Where is this God of yours I ask
They say Christianity is the way
Well, bullsh!t! That’s what I say.
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