My Soul and Dark Room

Here I come again
to my dark room, alone in my order.
Because that's all I have ever known.

Here in my mind, life does not run pass you.
Here, time is still and you do not get older
nor younger.

This is my thinking place,
My temple, my Self.

And it's here that I sit alone
feeling cold, alone.
Wandering weather the world out there would miss me.
Wondering weather someone would want to know My Room.

Because alone is as good as bad
And because a soul seeks for truth,
for companionship.

I do not hide. I wait.
From the beginning of time I've searched the world
and never found.
Still my Soul is strong in will to survive,
to search for its missing pieces.

What guides me is a will to be part of the new
and yet be so attached to the past.
The dichotomy of the soul is
and will be the reason for humanitarian and rational.

But here, in my dark corner of mind
it rests. It rests and things of going out again
searching.
But the pain for the misleading is overwhelming
And it makes me sad for the insignificance
I am to myself, to the other.
It's its only way to try and survive: to ache.

Pathetic attempt to stay straight
while you're already on your knees.

Maxwell Black
25 April 2009
09.13pm

Desgustingness of my existance

Once more the pain of the unberable past

aches on my chest.

But now the past is present and the pain is just more pain.

Pathetic existence that I so hard try to justify and pitty.

The desgustingness of the existense I try to fake

just to realise that the empty shell is still and empty shell.

Like a pathetic newborn that cryes, revolving in his own piss and shit and puke.

The revolution of failure and repulsion for the reflexion that is still what was,

while you rejoice in the indifferense of my pain.

And the more I think the more the repulse grows for self-pitty is desgusting on its own.

The cold and emptyness that once stood is once more enviting to its company

just for the fear of being alone.

I rather be back on my own, alone with myself. I don't want you here anymore.

Please, leave me to me and go and make your pain someone elses.

Indeed my fault for you told me not to fall in love. I do regret where it brought me.

Nothing more I can do now but to live once more with my mistakes for being a never learner.

I hate you for making me love you.

Maxwell R. Black

14 April 2009

02.43am