Dark Poetry

Inexistent Existence

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Existing –
a kind of state that I wish I wasn’t in.
To exist yet want the opposite of such
is that really a sin – is that asking for too much?

Falling asleep, I transcend into a different place, a different time.
I inhabit it without realisation, without any intention nor any wants
yet once I find myself lost within this realm,
my mind refuses to wake up, to leave it all behind.

For it’s within this walls that I feel I exist –
a place that I belong, a place filled with warmth.
An endless, unawakening slumber doesn’t seem to be such a bad idea,
all I was is an escape, away from the cards dealt by fate.

I refuse to hope, to want it any more,
for what’s the point of wanting more when emptiness is all that awaits?
I might occupy space, I might be seen by some –
yet the questions that haunts me is … am I really there?

Living a life of a shell, as a mere shadow of a being
wasn’t the way I have ever imagined of existing.
If a life of perpetual emptiness awaits,
then why shouldn’t I pull the trigger and determine my own fate?

*****

Why do you go through the same dance each time
even when you know that this is it, there’s nothing else to find?
Remember the demon in you, the darkness that clings still,
do you want that to infect others, torment and make them its next meal?

 

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