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His Eyes Are The Ocean I Drown

Roads To Isolation

His Eyes Are The Ocean I Drown
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The sorrow of an individual has encumbered him beyond the frailities lif'es attrocities brought his away. For his spirit is being eaten up by a rage embroiled inside his coal heart. For he must find the ignition to start up his true reality so his consciousness can be the guide to a path towards enlightenment.

His eyes are the ocean I drown

My sorrows in on cold nights.

I allow my anguish to embroil

Within me; however, it builds

Like a cancer eating away

At my inner peace.


Following me throughout

Turbulent waters is a fire

Burning inside my gut.

I wither away inside myself,

And tread no more.

For I’m drowning in sorrow.


Roads of isolation take me

Further and further away from

Reality.  For I created my own

Reality.  Illusions become me

In darkness.  Fiction becomes

Fact only to become fiction.


My mind grows hazy, and my

Spirit shreds.

All tables overturn their fortitude.

For my sorrows are the amber

Found among the dead.  I am

Of the dead. 


In death, there is an emptiness

Which leaves me in complete

Isolation.  My heart quakes

With fear, because I’m hollow.


I ask my fellow comrades in

The spirit world where my sense

Of being went to.  They respond,

There is only emptiness in death

Which leaves voided feelings.


Death is as good as it is in thought.

For there is no light for those who

Fall into darkness.  Light is for those

Whose hearts have transcended into

Heaven’s fire of love.  For it is the

Afterlife, the Paradise the Lord often

Spoke of to his disciples.

However, the only means for getting

The heart back is through self acceptance,

No regrets about past decisions made, and

No fear of the future.  For the present is all

One can control.


Every decision made in the present affects

The future.  However, every decision made

In the past doesn’t have to affect the present

Negatively.  Even a bad experience has it’s

Lesson.  Learn from the past, and all shall

Be confounded by the heart light.


For if the fire is to return to the lost,

One must delve into his own consciousness,

And look to the Holy Spirit buried within



When the river dries up, his tears form

a bond amongst his core enlightenment.

His anguish transforms him into a light

For humanity.  Only then, can he dance

Among a starry, starry, night.

He walks among those whose light

embraces him, removing his longing 

to be removed from the distance which

feeds his heart with hope.

For there is now a fire burning within

him.  He is delivered from sanctioned

memories which held him prisoner to

his past.  His soul is fed.

His sanctity burns in the wind's breath.

I collapse.  My my burning lungs torture me.

I plea the Lord, "Prolong me no more.  I'd rather the fire be quelled than to quake me."



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