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  • way115 75w


    You were the only thing on my mind.
    Day in.
    Day out.
    We were young but so in love.
    We would stay up for hours on end.
    Telling stories of adventures.
    And all the good things between.
    Your smile glistened and I couldn't get enough.
    Your laugh always made me happy.
    Because I knew you were.
    Just like anybody.
    We had our ups and downs.
    Yet we still managed to pass by.
    We broke up and it was just never the same.
    We distanced.
    You moved father away.
    We took two different paths.
    Everytime you came back I had a light that sparked.
    To hear your voice and see you.
    Just to know you were alright.
    You always made sure you checked up on me.
    Just to make sure I was alright.
    And now.
    It's been 2 years since I have heard from you.
    Since I've seen the smile and heard the laugh that gave me all the joy in the world.
    Since I have gotten anything.
    The world truly hasn't been the same.
    And now I feel like I'm drifting along with the void of time.
    And will never find out, if you could still truly be mine.

  • way115 85w


    He whispers into my ear.
    Seeking vengance once more.
    Seeking immortality.
    He knows what he has to prove.
    And knows what he has done.
    He gears for the forthcoming fight.
    He continues to desire for blood once more.
    Stalking the simplest of thoughts
    And the well crafted.
    He knows what he has to do.
    To seek my attention.
    He shows his face once more.
    With skin as red as a star.
    And his black suit that is as dark as charcoal.
    He leans down to me.
    He stares into the abyss of my eyes.
    With his yellow cat like eyes.
    "I desire the old you again. We must conquer the world again."
    Remembering the path that I once took.
    A path that I once desired now is again.
    I prepared for the path of destruction.
    And went to war.
    And I vouched to conquer once more.

  • way115 109w


    The wild winds of thoughts drown everything out.
    The waves crashing down over me seemingly drowning me into my own abyss.
    There is no sorrow to be amiss.
    I bear the true tides of loneliness.
    I walk the earth alone as an empty soul trudging through endless timelines.
    Encountering empty souls that walk this scorched earth.
    Emptiness in the eyes of men and women who bare the scars of tragedies.
    The wind tosses the thoughts like a windstorm.
    Shattering hopes and dreams of it all.
    Like a hurricane, we all must be torn from wall to wall.

  • way115 113w


    Its 3 am.
    With my mind wandering to the darkest realms of its existence.
    The devils children play among the wandering and drifting thoughts of eternal existence.
    I lay awake looking out the window wondering
    Wondering how I have shifted myself into this timeline of parallel experience.
    Of parallel timelines of my own self.
    How did I come to the point of no return with this life.
    With this timeline.
    On this plane of eternal existence.
    I lay awake in the wee hours of the morning.
    Thinking that there might just be a chance.
    A chance of changing, a chance of moving on.
    A chance of to end my life and to start anew.
    To become transparent and transcendental of my own life.
    Its 3 am.
    And I wonder where it all went wrong.

  • way115 114w


    The flow of the water.
    That makes your mind wander.
    A solemn misconception of dreariness.
    But the idea of it being calming.
    Everything is still and nothing moves.
    The true silence in the world of all the noises.
    There is nothing better than hearing it hit the earth.
    Hearing it give what life is today.
    Hearing it silence all but it's own noises.
    But rain also leads awry.
    It can give you the idea of being isolated.
    And lead you into the dark realm of your own wandering mind.
    Lead you to the misfortunes you have rendered in your life.
    The situations with differential outcomes.
    But it is you who chooses, where your mind wanders in the rain.

  • way115 120w


    A wandering soul of sorts.
    A man who decides to leave society.
    No longer apart of the idea of time and space.
    Delves into the shadows of dimensional travel.
    The man in the shadows of the room.
    To look upon as the fools of society destroy themselves.
    Remnants of a survivor.
    Who has lived through hell and back.
    A man who sold his soul to only take it back.
    It could be 1pm.
    Or 1am.
    And the world will still feel so empty.
    So he decides to leave it all.
    Just before it falls.

  • way115 136w

    The Destructor

    The Shadow man.
    Otherworldly being that follows.
    In the plight of your sadness and anger.
    It's a never ending loop.
    It shows itself everywhere.
    With no face.
    A suit as black as charcoal.
    It shows at your job.
    It stalks you through the streets.
    It follows you till the end.
    This being is not represented as an outside conscious.
    It is you.
    A dark being that is you and your concious.
    Hate that courses so deep into your body its spiritual.
    It shows no true good of any kind.
    A true evil being.

  • way115 163w

    3 A.M.

    It is three in the morning and you are still on my mind.
    Like the roaring waters of a flooded river.
    You entice my imagination.
    Make a smile burst from ear to ear.
    Just at the shear thought of you crossing my mind.
    From a simple kiss.
    To the best day that we could have.
    I lay awake at three in the morning to ponder.
    How ever did I get so lucky?
    So lucky to have you cross the ever eternal machine.
    It's three in the morning, and I can't get enough of you.

  • way115 164w

    Pale Blue Room

    The true embodiment of mood.
    The pale blue room certainly set the tone.
    Truth be told beyond the walls.
    Pale blue room holds many feelings and many meanings.
    Of many memories and many tradgies.
    The walls have been covered with the smears of shame and glory.
    Stories of madmen and genius's.
    Tales of men who have wandered time and space.

  • way115 193w

    The Grey

    Skin as pale as the moon.
    Eyes that are filled with hate.
    A heart heavy for vengance.
    Intentions wicked as a storm.
    The light prevails in the soul.
    As darkness consumes the mind.
    The self is a struggle.
    All trapped inside an organic landmine.
    The devils children run amuck.
    Giving no motion to become unstuck.
    The mind simply becomes a frame.
    Running through your veins.
    The Devil himself shows.
    Fear, struggle, and hate.
    But to motion the light becomes true.
    Balance between light and dark.
    To break through a scorched mind.
    As the red stops running.
    As the hate fades away.
    The true struggle is not yet over.