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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.
Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.
With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to untouched places by men.
Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2012
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
Devouring, destroying, decaying. For your eyes only.
Inside, interiors, innermost. Then reflects on the outside.
Eaten, eager, eroding. Tap it, let it pour.
Disdain, disease, departure. 'Twas been driving you.
...reconciliation, with what is left.
...acceptance, what it offers.
...accord, to what you have become.
Peace, in the soft embrace of oblivion brought through demise.
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2014
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
So far down into my pit of anguish, I find myself.
Slowly, some of my senses are coming back to me. Teh aching pain inside my soul and heart doesn't make this easy, but I try to rise my head, to stand on my own. In front of me, I find a looking glass.
Glancing at its cracked and dirty surface, I do not recognize teh face displayed in there. "For how long have I been sinking till I became this?" I think to myself. "Whatever is this that I spy, ain't worth the effort, mine or of anyone else..."
Squishing my eyes shut, in an attempt to fight this feeling of time wasted, of remorse and melancholy, feeling like my time is waning faster than it should, of it being wasted, I fail hard to do so.
Like sand, it goes through my fingers as I try to get a hold of it but, to no avail, it falls and vanishes into the drain.
And, as like that, I find her, once more. Cold and sharp, waiting. The crimson tint beneath my shell isn't a so soothing sight to behold no longer, in hope to make it fade away, all these evil thoughts and frustrations accumulating on each passing day through over all these years...
"What have I become? What have I done with my life to this point." Looking back, now I realize, all this time I've been fooling myself. Now it is too late.
I don't have time to anything else if not find relief on the click and the combustion of the dark dust. Trepanation by my own making. THe only good deed from myself to this screwed up world of broken shadows.
You should, as well, take a deep and look gaze upon this mirror without denying what you see in there, for I am of your making and you are broken equally. If you doubt, go there now and look and think...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
But now, I wonder "Will I have the bravery to follow?"
Demise shall follow if I am to attain redemption and cleanness of my sins that tarnish my soul.
Sometimes, I cling to yes, sometimes I cling to no.
When the dark clouds blur my sight, I ask myself "What is worth living for?", some believe in god, some in money or in even a more mundane wish.
I lack this one thing, I lack the purpose that would impulse me forward. But then, I speculate "For me, must be love", but what is love? I do not know, I am an strange to it, perhaps this wasn't reserved for everyone.
Well, one thing is right, my passing will not be mourned nor missed. It will go like the wind, now here then gone and noone noticed a thing.
Many leaves were shaken, many tears soiled the ground, yet, none of this was spotted by anyone.
To the people I did wrong "I am sorry, please, do forgive me".
To the people that hates me, hate me more, be genuine with it and be the fuel of this endeavor. Hurt me more, make me bleed, cut open my flesh, as he once did when I was an infant, paint the wall with my crimson tint...
Make me regret to have been born, actually, this will require little effort, since I already regret that.
My mind is set, termination is the way to go if I desire to do something good, at least once, in this life.
No hope can be spied nor a glimmering light to lead this one to safety.
In a colorless world, only with shades of black and gray, thoughts of demise haunts me day after day.
I see the people around me, at work, on the the streets, everywhere and I cannot help but to feel disgusted and out of place and helpless.
I am tired of pretending, behind my mask, I weep, behind their masks, they laugh at me.
I am tired of being fed by deceiving tales and to feed other with my lies.
The lies... It is everywhere, one must tread lightly between them, or else will fall their prey.
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2012
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
Twice the sun shone for me
such splendor and bright light--
I am only embers now.
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2015
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
I once thought to have the world within my grasp, that all I needed I already had.
I once thought to be unable to feel more happier than I was while you were around.
Only way to make it better, was to change our worlds of ones and zeroes to contact of the flesh itself.
Even though I realized it, I choose to deny it. I was sorely mistaken about you and I, and this and that.
You smiled when you lied about your feelings.
"I cannot give to you more than this" you said with an evil smirk while observing me from afar.
The smirk, was it real or imaginated?
I do not know, and I fear I will never know, my mind play tricks on me once and again.
Misleading me to believe, like it allowed me to believe in your words.
Words... Amazing how powerful it can be, use it well and one can find pleasure, use it well, and one can find the demise of the soul.
leaving an empty husk behind, like you left me. An empty husk longing to be filled, once again, with the colors of joy.
Coming from the other side of the world, I felt your words and disdain like piercing cold knives straight to my heart, once warm, now cold, since you left.
And following your words you went away to never come back.
Along with you, went away also the joy and happiness I dared to thought to be eternal, a sweet lie I was telling myself...
Even today, after so long, I still think about you and I, your mesmerizing gaze that made me forget and float, your enchanting laughter and the warm and soft touch I told myself that you had.
Touch that I will never feel, laughter I will never hear, again, and eyes that I will never meet, again.
When you left, I was torn, between love and hatred. Now the hatred is gone and the love morphed to friendship, which I would like to share with you.
The Mauritius girl, will my words reach you?
I guess they will not, but I like to hope, to dream.
Hopes and dreams, the accessories of the weak...
A weak being, that I am, a being to be filled with fake bliss, five by day.
Three by the sunrise and two when the diamonds imbue the skies.
As like that, the curtains shall rise and fall before my eyes, at each passing empty day.
And so I live on, even if that means to not have you anyway I can... The only way I can...
For now, I just wonder, if will I ever find it again while I live? The joy and wonder, I mean.
I ask this chair, I ask the other me on the looking glass and I ask my shadow.
I guess these are the only companionships I will ever have until I meet my final doom.
My shadow, my other broken me and this chair and my memories, of you and I...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2012
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
You tricked me once and tricked me twice
There will not be a next ime
For I shall take your life.
You used to pull the strings
Played with me, made me dance to your tune
Now I want to see
If you can also dance to my tune
But with severed nerves
I shall lead you, fear not
My hatred is now gone,
Forwhy I realize we are the same
You and I, suffer from the same illness:
Life.
You seek freedom, as I also do,
No point denying it
Behind your mask of empty words
I spy fear and disgust
You claim to be tired
Tell me that the situation made you wary
You want to forget and to undo what cannot be undone
I offer you my aid, come, there is a way...
You yet lack what it takes to be set really free
Come with me and I shall show you how to get there
to the other side of this dark and cruel hall
But be aware, this is an one way ticked trip, but who cares?
For when you meet me there you shall see
See that what lies here and hinder your forwarding to a more blessed realm
With its strings righteously cut and heart full of joy, there will be no regrets
Only the one to not have done that sooner.
Enough. I feel confused but I still know what must be done
Are you still with me?
I must call her now, my old friend
She is nice, if you know how to amend to your side of the road
She ought be our guide, mine and yours
Quick now, shall we go?
I must keep my word and lead you, look
The first steps are fast, look
Will open a few holes on our cage of flesh, look
Dig deep, dig fast, don't stop until senses fails and head goes numb, look
From which you can see the inside of you, look how I really am, look
Ugly as the outside, but to be ether this shall not matter, for both of us
What you may come to feel now, may cloud your thinking,
may make you doubt me, perhaps to think
I wish to make you miserable, that I mislead you to a trap.
That I did not. For, to you, I do not lie.
The woe, my dear, lies in our hearts, on this husk
The very same which we have no use anymore, none of them and none from here
Don't think bad of me, please
For I only want to set you free.
Close your eyes and follow me...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2012
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
I once thought that I knew what happiness was like, but I was mistaken. Forwhy I have found how it does feel to be really happy, truly happy, nothing fleeting, only last night.
In the night when she came to me, in my cave made of barred windows and closed curtains, locked doors and dimming light, where is always almost dark, light shone and life flowed into me when she smiled and blissful words were said by her. A night of wonders when I sought her arm across the bed and I held her hand as she held mine, the exchange of looks was the bonding of our souls.
The intertwining of our fingers, the strength of our grasp as if to never let go, made me realize that I was no longer alone, that I have found my place, a purpose, a home inside her heart to bath forever into her soul and warmth.
As my eyelids brought dark to my sight, I have seen ourselves in the Future, together. She and I. Now, to grow old by her side is my only wish from what is left of this life, to make this glimpse of the Future a truth is what I have to live for.
When they see us, they may see two people, yet, we will be just one for we are bond to the soul. She and I. I love you.
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
The looking glass and the reflection are broken,
but it does not lie
He has spoken
Yet, I do not recognize this who stares back
The moon was high,
the time was nigh,
after that, I would have to make my pack
Being a hateful sight won't help
Being stupid only overwhelm
Being THIS won't do,
I want to be apart from you
For this and for that,
I had set free my only gnat
I blame only her,
I already felt my soul suffer
The fake joy, I sought
Love, whatever it is, I've found none
I desired to abstain with this mad search,
As it only turned to aught
Love's name I now smirch
I want to hang my heart in a knot
To stop or to slow down things for a second,
I had to be bitter with a certain person
Someone who never ever beckoned,
My soul exclaimed " Onto myself, arson!"
It feels like I am treading the path for my demise
But I know that I am not
Finding myself knee deep in lies,
I may start to rot
I sought means to feel this void again,
Being Involve by Anguish's chains
To be under the care of Dispair
The line now lies blurred,
for Jehuty's light is sick
Negative emotions, stirred,
letting go of her old soothing trick
Our bond is broken,
letting out what was left unspoken
The hurt starting from the inside,
reflections upon this husk, on the outside
The crimson brings rust
This woman gave me life
A life I didn't ask for,
nor it seems I have the right,
when to choose to fast forward it
My mind roams far, about what is life
Surely, can't be this
Forwhy this isn't right
I gave her disdain and hatred instead
She spoke of her ways
But all I grasped were failures
A nature passed onto me in daze
A gift of ignorance, with many lures
To her, to me, to you, from the world,
resulting in the utmost worst upbringing
To allow her to glimpse, was my worry,
perhaps it was too much punishing,
presenting why she shouldn't have had a lineage
Which brought her the tears,
as she saw the linkage
Whilst an old shears,
was brought as a visage to me...
Now that tears were given,
blood shall be given
Flowing down the drain,
the shadows in my mind and body are slain
An attempt to undo this so called life,
obscuring the sight, should suffice
To not see, to not feel,
to not think, to not exist
You may think,
that there are always another ways,
as like by the paper and ink,
that a life, or a fraction of it, should not be to one to reclaim
Alas yourself you deceive,
as only through such mannerisms,
a man is free from peeve
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2014
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The First Born The First Forgotten Poem
But she wasn't so wrong, I am an animal, after all. A sick one, I must say. And sick animals must be dealt with, must be dealt the only way they are. An ax to the head, splitting my skull, letting go of all those ill feelings, desires and ideas. To be put down, but I do not want to shed my own blood, not for her, but I would not care if someone else were to do that for me.
I am not going to be any longer a victim of your whims. I will no longer lick the ground where you walk on.To think it wasn't a question of "What do you want me to do?" as you told me followed by cursing, but rather "To understand what I meant and then we be sorting this out", to put an end. I can understand that what was done cannot be undone and that you had moved on, but still, there were things that weren't completely dealt with, and so I cannot do the same as you while these feelings still lingers. But you, as always, were unable to understand that. What I say I mean, unlike you... And instead of stretching out your arm, you gave me your foot, so I would lick it clean for you. The crumbs of affection you tossed to feed me, I am fed...
Now, I just I wish for a torpor of fifty years and twenty-six days, to only after that time to wake up, look around and then be gone.
But wishes are just that. A wish and none of that will happen, only inside my head.
And I know that is also just another lie, for I like to feel that, the desperation, the melancholy and the pain. The hatred.When life is more or less acceptable, less hateful, I do something that will destroy it all and then I will lose hope. Because I like. I am a animal, a sick animal. I like to lose hope so I can recede and cope the only way I know. The detachment of my soul from my body from these times are like a divine intervention, the bitterness of teh hatred will not let me feel these slices and cuts.I do not want to shed my own blood, but then this one will not be me, for I will be away, a spectator only able to drop tears. Something else will take my place, will take control and heal me how I deserve and have to be healed.
To split teh head, to bleed, to die, to be free of this torment.
I hate her as much as I hate myself. Or even more...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013
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