A twisted poem about being on the edge of life and trying to cope the best that I can. |
-Holding Faster True- by Keaton Foster In my hand A loaded gun One bullet Under the sun Turned quite black Time made prison Living without walls Living with skewed emotions Cruel adaptations Expiation in the gravest ways I have become a sentry of evil Only upon myself Justifiably so In the other room Those that I love Fools and heretics alike Masters of a game That I refuse to play Snakes within snake skins They get me to do things That I know are impossible Suffering deserved On both sides of the coin Killer be kind Always holding me at bay I wish them no harm Then again At least no harm by these hands In me is a sense of dread Like a billion bricks Taken from a factory of pain Once built in my honor A monument of hatred That once stood tall Now in absolute shambles Willfully dismantled Taken apart by me But certainly Destruction has only led To case of transference Of both properties and hypocrisies Holding faster true Always ready and Willing to face my doom In my hand A loaded gun One bullet Under the sun Turned quite black All it would take is courage But I can assure you That I have none All that I have All that is truly mine Is angry Such anger drives me And in a weirder way still Somehow has helped to save me I will always only need one bullet One single shot to kill my pain And set myself free Those that I love will suffer Far more than I could ever Those that I love have no idea That I am here Quite close To them and the end Holding faster true Saving me from myself But not from anyone else I should know better I should be far more capable Than I have forcefully become But I am not… Holding Faster True Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012. |