qfreak69's blog: "Blood, revisited"

Blood drips from my finger's tips,

as an ice cold breath leaves my lips.

Stiffness has crepe into my joints,

my mind is dull and without resolve.

Life has no meaning without Death,

and death is just an open doorway.

To step inside is only the beginning,

what awaits is not for the living to know.

I have looked into that door,

and have seen what is to come.

Fear of the unknown,

is only for those who do not know.

Come walk with me inside this show,

take my hand if you still fear.

For death is only a beginning,

not the eternal end.

Come lay your worries upon my shoulder,

and walk with me and be a little bolder.

For life in this world is nothing but cold,

and I weep for all my children, as I grow old.


A poem for my love I will never see. Those with power have broken my spirit. Depression takes on many forms. I am so depressed now. I don't know what to do. My business is going great but my love life sucks. Without love is life worth living. A question to ponder, while writing another poem. The cold hard metal in my hand calls to me at night, my brothers' walk constantly within my Dreams. No one is there for me. I weep within myself. I wish to go home, but they will not allow me too. Bustards. Dark figures in my mind, or are they. No one is here to help; they are just in it for themselves. People tell me they despise someone who takes the easy way out, so I set here in this prison, in despair, wanting forever wanting for the master hand to lift me up from my misery. But ever he has abandon me, I am less than the rotting flesh of a dog in the middle of the road, the city at least comes by to pick up what remains. I am nothing.