And I was falling

Down, down, down

I couldn't remember

The things I saw

For they passed far too quickly

Only that all of them combined

Saddened me deeply

I was struck with such

Harsh emotion that I

Couldn't function for periods of time

It would feel as if

The darkness surrounding me

Imploded

Incasing me in fiery emptiness

It doesn't make sense

And there is no way

To truly describe it

I can only tell you

That in these moments

I lose my way

I slip into a terrible place

But I also feel comfort

Because I know in these times

I am completely myself

My nerves have been set on fire

But as I burn, I know who I am

We are but moments 

Bound and twisted here

Captive to our personifications 

Who we are 

Is deemed irrelevant 

Yet who we seem to be 

Reign supreme 

Perhaps this is why

We are called man 

A manifestation 

Of true selves 

Tirelessly fighting 

To remain anonymous 

In a world of lies 

Gods of construct 

Figures we materialize

Faux heroes of light

To save us from our darkness

I don't want to feel

Yet I drown in emotion

I don't believe them

I need someone to believe in 

Seeking safety 

From our own minds

Thoughts that churn 

Create our own demise 

What have I done

To deserve sorrow

Felt in every fiber 

Yet for problems mundane 

Is it selfish to wish 

Upon stars so high

To fix small problems 

For such big eyes

I am empty inside and 

The hole is filled with fire 

I am burning alive

All I ask for is water 

Shadows slumber as the sun goes down

 finally punching out their cards at work

 As they're heading home 

 Darkness is finally rolling in 

Night is a sleazy old man

Crusted with grim from unholy ways

With not a worry for his victims 

Sticking from all the trouble he makes 

The shadows are happy to see him

Their jobs are just the same

To hide the things most distressing

To provide cover for the unclean 

Night is vengeful towards the day

Who is much more pretentious 

Mocking her beautiful light 

He must ruin all that he touches

He takes pleasure in his work

No one so proud of sin as he

He slinks around all over the world

And grins as he sees 

All of the terrible very bad things

He lets happen under his wings

There was a bird

Who had no soul

But flew with those

Who did

He longed to be

Like the rest

But he was damned

And knew it true

Yet he still flew

Side by side

Like birds do

To sing a song

The song would float

Through the air

To touch the ears

Of all that were near

They all heard the

Sad Sad notes

That fell from the bird

Who had no soul

Cracked lips drew a thin line, as she squinted at the sun, cursing its indecency. How crude it was to shine so brightly on a day that deserved only shadows. The preacher spoke, or rather chanted, about the "life everlasting" that would be gifted upon those gone from this world. Laughter threatened to spill from deep inside, her amusement originating from the fact that the man in the box hated organized religions. "Suits him well," she thought to herself. Nodding along, the rest of the crowd muttered occasional "amens" and sniffles away the occasional tear. She sure that known of them knew the man, now destined for damnation. She, on the other hand, had known him all too well. Smug at the assumption of his eternal demise, she walked away from the fabricated lies being sewn over the man's forever home: a 6 ft hole in the ground. She was overjoyed, of course, that he was gone forever but the fear are away at her. The damage had already been done and she feared it wasn't enough that he was dead, it never was, and it never would be.

You spoke to me your eyes so blue

A twinge I didn't know what to do

But understood I wasn't good enough for you

The taste of blood

The love of the fight

The hatred and the spite

You told me of all your shame

Confided in me with horror so plain

Because of this- I was never the same

Humming the devil stared at his reflection that glared back at him on the pearly gates. After waiting for what felt like an eternity, God appeared on the other side with his arms crossed over his chest, much like a disapproving father. 

"You know that I will not let you in." Thunder cracked as God spoke. 

The devil clapped slowly, "Very nice touch, it seemed a bit much to me, but whatever floats your boat." 

"What do you want? I have things that I actually need to do."

"Oh, Im sure you are very busy man- or being, or whatever it is that you are, but I want to play a game."

"I don't have time for your games." And God turned away from him, but as he glided in the other direction he heard Satan trying to contain his laughter. 

Now wearing a grey wig and a faded purple sun dress, the devil looked like an old lady. "Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing over the plains." Mocking the southern twang of a grandmaw singing in church loud enough for the angels to hear.

"That's enough!" But even the mighty Lord was struggling to contain his laughter. Reaching through the gate he grabbed Satan's arm and the world burst into light.

The two old acquaintances, landed in a field that was barren except for a single tree. 

"Ow, that always gives me a headache."

"So, what type of game do you want to play? Choose wisely and quickly."

"It's called two truths and a lie. I tell you three stories and you pick the one that you don't believe, which should be easy for you Great Knower of All Things."

"Very well." In truth, God was intrigued.  

"Once upon a time there was a young girl. Broken and forgotten, she lived to be her drunken fathers punching bag. Ignored by her mother, so without help, she was abused in every sense the word provides. Imagine the pain, Oh Mighty One, that was strong enough for her to end her own life."

"I don't won't to hear anymore. You mock things that you have never understood."

"Your dear children are dying." The devil leaned against the tree, that turned black at the touch, his smirk undeniable.

God turned his back to him, letting his hands fall to the sides, brushing against the tall, swaying grass. "I have no need to share my motives with you. If there is one flaw of yours that I must harp on, it is that you have never kept faith in me. But you were right about one thing. I do know the outcomes of your stories, they hold no mystery because I am their author." Noticing the silence that had settled, he turned back to the tree.

The devil was gone.

Peering at the place the dark prince used to be, the tree was burnt in such a way, that it appeared to be the devil's shadow. God glided towards the sturdy oak and reaching that destination, laid his hand, splayed, on the bark. Color soon returned and flowers bloomed in the surrounding field. Exhausted at the routine of catering to Satan's times of boredom, a sigh escaped the Father. Soaking in the sun's warmth, he stood there just a minute longer before returning to his kingdom. From the clouds he could see the devil wandering the earth, in his flamboyant and crass way, as he would forever and always.

It is at this point in my life that I have determined my biggest fault. In my subconscious I have extinguished my hopes. I must be miserable, because happiness is a risk. The tilting scale of the universe will always tip destroying that joy. It is best to remain bitter and tear-stained. I am too afraid to find my happiness because I know too well what it feels like to fail. So I lock myself away. The deadbolt slides in place and I feel safe. Sad but safe. There is no love or good in this place. I have tricked myself into believing that this is better than any illusions of peace.

I am scared it will not get better than this.