My Obsession
These autumn leaves fight for my thought’s possession
Only to ensnare me deeper into my endless obsession
I’ll keep writing and writing to run away from its shadow
Hoping my words will set the darkness aglow
My words are trapped in the cages of paper
Words that continually curse the existence of their author
And only send him deeper into the warmth of insanity
As he escapes from the caress of sanity’s vanity
With every stroke of his tool his mind grows evermore aloof
But perhaps it is not to be seen by those who require undisputed proof
Only to those with much more abstraction in their mind
Shall read and read the words and then continually they shall find
The true nature those words that are etched so deeply into the soul
That to see into the mind of the author would be equivalent to finding a black hole
One day it shall all come back together in the author’s heart
Whose words tore it so ruthlessly apart?
In which being lay the darkness personified to destroy another’s being
And in turn begin to prove to one that life truly has no meaning
These leaves fall upon me harder and harder like pouring rain
A fitting personification as I whisk them away in vain
But they continually fall upon me, as do my sorrows
Yet like every changing season, these sorrows change every tomorrow
As do these words that bleed upon the lines
With every new thought transcribed into the paper does it truly shine?
Nothing makes me want to leave my thoughts at a blank
As my mind falls faster than the leaves that the wind sank
Perhaps I am akin to these leaves. As the seasons change, so do I.
With every renewed season, I am reborn just as I die.
Someday I shall be freed of my obsession.
Yet for now, my obsession holds my rotting mind within its possession.
Only to ensnare me deeper into my endless obsession
I’ll keep writing and writing to run away from its shadow
Hoping my words will set the darkness aglow
My words are trapped in the cages of paper
Words that continually curse the existence of their author
And only send him deeper into the warmth of insanity
As he escapes from the caress of sanity’s vanity
With every stroke of his tool his mind grows evermore aloof
But perhaps it is not to be seen by those who require undisputed proof
Only to those with much more abstraction in their mind
Shall read and read the words and then continually they shall find
The true nature those words that are etched so deeply into the soul
That to see into the mind of the author would be equivalent to finding a black hole
One day it shall all come back together in the author’s heart
Whose words tore it so ruthlessly apart?
In which being lay the darkness personified to destroy another’s being
And in turn begin to prove to one that life truly has no meaning
These leaves fall upon me harder and harder like pouring rain
A fitting personification as I whisk them away in vain
But they continually fall upon me, as do my sorrows
Yet like every changing season, these sorrows change every tomorrow
As do these words that bleed upon the lines
With every new thought transcribed into the paper does it truly shine?
Nothing makes me want to leave my thoughts at a blank
As my mind falls faster than the leaves that the wind sank
Perhaps I am akin to these leaves. As the seasons change, so do I.
With every renewed season, I am reborn just as I die.
Someday I shall be freed of my obsession.
Yet for now, my obsession holds my rotting mind within its possession.