Cruel Intentions

words do not come easy out here

where few have ever been,

as the emptiness takes all that there is,

then cries out for more,

but there is none to be found,

(not a fucking thing);

the darkness steals away the last evening light,

it silently seeks you out,

only to find you exactly where it last left you,

gently caressing your tear-soaked cheek,

softly whispering within your well trained ear;

‘just let it go’

instead, you join all the other crustaceans,

crawling among the waste and desolation,

your soul stripped clean to the core,

left to slowly die and rot

along the deserted wayside;

movement grows difficult,

among the faithless and scattered wreckage,

strewn loosely about deeply dug graves,

where a hundred million voices ask,

was it really all about this?

could it possibly be this simple?

there are many things

I once thought I would be,

but I never thought I would become

that which I became, and

in the end it made no difference,

because eventually,

no matter how far you travel,

you wind up where you began,

with the stark, basic understanding,

that this really is

the kindest and cruelest joke

of them all.

.

.