writing Poetry Compilation #4

[Ferret Girl 2,642]

A note to whoever reads:

 

Thank you... that is really all i can say, I hope you enjoy...

Please tell me which was your favorite of this set, and tell me what it means to you.

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

Dedication of the damned

 

 

Today, I seek refuge from the weary souls that surround me. I have long fought this war in life, and yet I have fought so little. Nothing seems to make sense while the eve of dawning night approaches so rapidly.

Yes, this is my story, neigh, my indication of a life of desertion. What else soothes the aches of tormented humanity? And so I find my tongue twisted and spewing lies forth to you and the rest of the masses. I find this in myself to be the damning factor, and seek retribution.

 

SO I walk without a shadow, from here to there. Never ending but all in the same of having already ended. This may just be my devil's curse, cast upon me like a simple inspiration. Yet this being, this entity, my missing shadow, OH how it burns me! I can feel it creeping forth, slowly stretching its ensemble dreadfully over me. I see now in the stained mirror, only the true face that covets me. This, oh this... the devil's curse upon me.

 

Arguments ensue as a discordant fellow I have become. Arguments with myself in my own maddening world. And so I find it easier to be alone as this damned shadow overtakes me. Seeking pity in places of grief that lead only to more strife. I seek the redemption that eludes me. I seek refuge from my accursed soul. I am among the damned and willing. God save my soul. Or is this only what i wish to say, what I no doubt only want to believe. Yes, this devil's curse, this shadow inside that escapes to overtake... I see it all. All but the inception of my own delirious mind unto yours.

 

 

Can you hear it? Oh, you cannot? A shame that is. Surely I now go mad; surely I die alone in this putrid shell of a being that is overrun with the facilities of devil's and shadow beings. I say again, I must surely be damned. Nothing will see through the abyss that is my illuminated anxiety. Oh no, and none too soon. I fear it will only be too late by the time you realize just what these words mean. Oh dear, for it seems that again I find myself unable to quite comprehend the sanctities that make my mind. Who does this make me? And just who does that make me in a world that cannot house me?

 

A world that is unable, and at it's very most not wanting to hold me. I find myself back to where I started in this mad and cruelly condescending landscape of barren fields and burning seas. Nothing seems left to meet my gaze as I scan the vast expanse to find only my lost interests. To this curse, a devil's tricks and melancholy catastrophe. I am lost in my own furrows and imaginative wasteland that is the fire I walk so boldly in. I walk in a circle of pointless apparitions that leave me deserving the most wanted sacraments of acceptance that often escape my own dwelling. I talk so lowly of my steps taken towards infinite despise. Perhaps I speak to myself, or my shadow of intent that will now, and always forever be about me. I hope, plead, for deterrence of the walls that constrict me in here. I must escape the shadow, and this dreaded devil's mission.

Oh to where I should go? For I have not the slightest of ideas in which I could muster any and all forms of delight to approach meager collateral and critique. I speak of random musings and squalor of better things. But can you not see that the reason for so is that I am doomed to repeat the mistake of writing for demon's sake over, and oh so much over again.

 

OH, my shadow, it eats.

Oh my soul is devoured, but not gone, only changed in its' form and seen so differently for what it now is. I seek now the most unfathomable of doctrines, why my own decree of freedom from tyranny. Tyranny ruled by the governs of my own torment, and so by these standards, I am bound to eternity by my own fortitude. I seek no more knowing such, and wish to end all things that are permanent.

 

Ah yes, to destroy anything premature and oh so permanent in the memory of existing thoughts. Redundant my mind is often declared because of its ill will of repeated mistakes. So I search deeper, farther down the line, past all which devil himself has ‘ought to have forgotten. Days of days well spent. Days of days now wasted. So our crimes which are apparent, now overcome by the damned spectra that is the creeping onslaught that the world designates my shadow. Search deep, find an answer, and kill the shadow.

 

This devil's curse I keep to saying, often wallowing in the self-loathing it brings. This devil's curse which forsook my past in the place I wish to see. But now, oh how now all I see is the barren fields. Anything and everything of value is gone to me. I am forsaken by my own shadow, and so I walk alone, yet still with the covering that disowned me so.

 

I found what I sought, but at the same, I have not.

For this is not describable, and I shall not attempt such.

Woe is me, for my weakness in words to tell you what I see. Though it breaks my heart in new ways, also unable to describe. You see, this shadow, an agent of the devil's curse, oh how it MOCKS ME! Standing where the light shows, always there for me in the worst of ways. THIS! THIS is the reason I am undesirable, unfit for living with the commons and instead forcing squander, meager helpings upon myself, for that is now all I know, all I will ever bear witness to as I march across a sea of shattered glass and salted fire. Let the trail of blood I leave serve as a reminder to those who lose themselves as I have. The blood will be all there is of me when I fully disappear in the shadow that is my innards and new way of thinking. Slowly, yet assuredly I will be devoured, and never sought again. So I walk in the circles I lay before me, obvious never to stray from my plans, lest I forget why I laid them. So on, and so forth, doomed to repeat, or failure to comprehend?

 

 

Unfair is this question that I bring myself to thinking. It only cuts deeper into the mind that I no longer wish to possess. Why would one such as me even need such a thing as a mind? For the shadow I have serves this function in its stead. And as I continue to walk in my circles, desperate to breathe in new breaths, I ask myself of why it ever happened. This is of an origin as to which I can no longer remember. Has it not been for all of existing eternity that I have been confined here in the prison of blood and hate? I sought this, yes, oh so long ago. Thoughts now dead that cannot be revived. And so, regardless of realizing hate in words, and pity in kindness, we seek on. We, I no longer fit. We, as one, A being and its shadow, now completely one. My new name, OUR new name, is a combination of nothing and digression. Leaving no room for unwanted desire of free will.

 

The shadow took over, I gave in, or so it seems, because here now, on the dawn of night I stand, coveted in every which way imaginable. I grieve. Why? To what end does my own pursuit follow? I found nothing? Nothing at all...

 

So it was my ignorance that sustained me, and kept me imprisoned. This to all ends must be what invoked my never ending insanity, this, is the devil's curse. So I realize, now, that I am trapped. By doing so, I figure by all means that insanity will next strike. The shadow, inching nearer to my throat. Proof of my damnation to the eternal flame of a kindled anger that will always thirst for the blood of oneself.

 

The devil's curse, one cannot overcome.

The shadow, one cannot defeat.

So what now of me? I left a trail of bloodied footprints meant to guide, but only led others to the damning vindication that I desperately still attempt to escape. Obvious and simple things do not exist. All things hold more true meanings in their sides that cannot be seen. Here and forever, I accepted my fate, amongst the playthings that the demons provoked. Nothing left for me. I encourage the shadow; let it take its awaited toll. My dedication, which by all means was meant to be an everlasting fight that would hold no victor, and go one past the eve that dawns on the morning.

 

I am a fool, and for this I covet even myself. I welcome an end to all things. Even that of my acclaimed dedication is nothing. Simply put, it is the dedication of the damned.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Times like these...

 

 

In my thoughts, I seek the solitude that will forever elude me.

I find myself wandering these lands without a care; without a dream.

At the end of every day, I wonder.

Just what purpose is my life serving?

 

I walk among the shadows, often joining with them.

At such times I feel welcomed, and exiled all the same.

At times like these, I have to ask,

What am I waiting for?

 

My life has a meaning, but to what end?

I find myself asking these questions that drive me mad.

Mad, because I cannot answer them.

Mad, because I do not think I will ever know the answer.

 

In times such as these, I take a moment to think.

I take the rationality of my own mind, and work towards finding an answer.

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

My Rusty Heart

 

 

My Rusty Heart

 

Oh so sure, thinking of you.

My time to be, a another day that passes.

My life, against my will, has turned to longing.

Kind souls of lovers hearts combine, when is our time?

“I know what I want”, the greatest lie we tell ourselves.

I wish I knew, but I am lost in my own thoughts once again.

Once again, thinking of you.

 

I find that I have never really had such a feeling.

I find that my heart was bare until these days.

My heart, never used, laid dormant.

You were the first to attempt to use my heart.

I remember oh so much the power in those words,

the words that moved my heart, for perhaps the very first time.

 

So now, my heart beats as that of a metronome.

I am brought to life, simply by the words you spoke, the feelings you declared.

I wish to return them, all in fact plus more.

I wish to give to no other.

I only want to be with you.

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

The Full Moon

 

 

Let sit, let rot my intention.

My views are led askew by the very feelings that derived them.

This accursed moon is of no help, it's light is all too inspiring.

I find myself staring away at the beauty that beholds itself to be this moon.

This moon, whose light grips me tight, not letting me continue my destructive self-loathing.

This moon, this wonderfully awefull moon. Why do you shine on me?

I am not worthy of a grace of light that you reflect so elegantly unto me.

My words do little to compliment the wonders that you bring about.

My words, taken aback, as I find myself unable to speak.

 

I attempt, mostly in vain to stray away from the moonlight.

To continue what i must do, to continue hating myself for my gifts and flaws.

Oh but how the moon shines!

It breaks my heart, and fixes it all the same.

I cannot feel myself witholding anger at any force whilst in this light.

I am sorry, I cry for you, this beautiful moon, it blesses my heart and cures my ills.

No longer do i feel the need that i started this poem with.

True, no longer must I feel such a way knowing that the moon slowly arcs this sky.

I watch it, never faltering, never pausing in my admiration.

 

But, I find that this is where my life halts, for this is when the moon sets.

No longer do I see the full moon, but rather a blazing orb of fire.

I attempt to look at it as I looked at the moon.

Trying to take in its beauty, so that I can feel that joy again, Butr I cannot.

The Sun does not wish to be seen, as she refuses to allow mortal eyes to gaze upon her.

So I feel this blatent disredard for my own pitiful life.

I find myself wallowing once again in my own despair

Loving nothing, and missing the moonlight, I cry, tears of such a pain.

I find myself writing of these turmoils, of these wallows, of these feelings for the moon.

I know not what to think, so I cast it all aside, and wait, miserably, for the moon.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

Lonesome Road

 

 

So I walk this lonesome road, a path that was meant for me.

In turn I suppose, this is what I wish to be.

Always knowing that in the end, this lonesome road shall be my home.

To be the one who walks this path, and know it all the same.

 

Some have looked upon this path, often sharing pity.

People, apparently, know not what they squander.

My life, life to see, and a life to which I know this end.

My life, this lonesome road.

 

I go about my days in a manner, most redundant.

I place one foot in front of the other, always wanting to stop.

And, at the same time I wish to continue.

My life, this path that I must follow.

 

To be, in the end obviously.

My life, this lonely road that I walk upon.

This life I live, this path I choose.

Why, oh why, does this life suit me?

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

These Thoughts Prove Life's Meaning (TTPLM)

 

 

Thoughts returned.

Threats anew.

Principal abandoned.

Life, forgotten.

Memories dissipated.

 

These times are growing hard, with life always keeping us down.

These days we find ourselves at the mercy of our own thoughts.

Perhaps I will lose myself along the paths that I choose.

Losing more than my mind, but the rationality of my own soul.

Malicious deeds seek to end it all.

 

Truth forsaken.

Trust alleviated.

Purity destroyed.

Lust abundant.

Malcontent everywhere.

 

Times such as these, our deeds will find us.

Time that seeks to destroy itself, taking away it's own foundation.

Philosophy will no longer shelter your burdens.

Listening to the clockwork of life itself simply stop.

Make the change be worthy of it's notice.

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Unto you, my friend

 

 

Experience this, these words.

Take them yourself, spew them like I shall.

Understand now that the reason for doing so is beyond your pitiful comprehension.

I know this, but can you accept it?

Leaving behind a world which cannot understand itself.

This, oh this, my regret, my pain.

live up to no expectations,

for if you cannot possibly understand this, there is no hope.

This , oh this, my initial fear, my complaint against humanity.

 

Do you still not understand your own actions?

A wave of desicions that affect your very own state of mind.

My own, unto yours,

Yours, returning unto me.

 

What is mine, I only wish to share, only unto you, these people.

Share that which is known, but for so long now has been forgotten.

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

A sense of dread

 

 

Feeling in such a way, on before the literal torrent of a storm that is aproaching with it's vast expanse and powerful forces. I cringe at the thought of such, taking it's toll, leaving me breathless on the serenade that is and shall be my own pity. Let it be for me to wallow in, better than that of a nation, as a whole, to weep in my stead.

 

I hold my own, only to be afraid of that which I stand against, my own, and yours. Stand alone, stand... alone.

 

Face forward, accept the torrent, it cascades throughout the body. This feeling, amongst all angst, anger, and fear. I stand alone, gripping this lonely feeling. Among none, among my own.

 

Nevermind the stance I take, nevermind the feelings I once held, I am losing my grip on this world and unto you. this feeling...

 

Oh, how I weep... this feeling.

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Meanings with no meaning

 

 

Let go, LET GO!

feel not, my own.

Show me a life that I could have known.

These words, forseake me so, let them burn LET THEM BURN!

 

My own time to realize, my own time to accept.

Take for granted the thanks of a thousand lost souls.

Oh so ignorant I have become, lost myself, this thousand souls.

All I know now, is that it is my turn to burn.

 

Accept me, please, in the name of reality that I have forgotten, accept me.

I cry now, tears of a feeling.. this angst, it overtakes me.

Overpower,

Obselete,

indescribable,

unrelenting,

The pain inside me.

 

 

These words are forever meaningless, as I now realize that we do not truly understand them. nor will we ever, so I now must ask you..

 

Is it your turn to burn? Jump up beside me, ascend to a tower of higher though, set fire to the books inside, and let yourself burn amongst them... alongside me?

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Thoughts before writing

 

 

I remember, a long time ago, when things in my life wern't complicated, and life seemed to make sense. But this story isn't about me, no, it involves so much more than my simple story. Ah yes, but this raises a question of, rather grave, importance. Just where should I begin?

 

Oh, to begin... I suppose that it is necessary, after all, were we not told that all stories without a doubt require a beginning and an end? All things that society indicates, points towards that conclusion. But no, I refuse. Be it I may, a rebel, untraditional, or perhaps even a heretic. I dissmiss those words.

 

I will attempt to adhere my own view on the world. Yes, my view. One of a narrative nature, containing views of one who would consider himself a poet. With such views I will embark on a trip through perils unnamed, and unfathomable. Perhaps in such a sense, my stories will be unoriginal, mere conversions of minds greater than mine, and whose words were present long before I was. I hope not, and at the same time, I truly hope so.

 

So I go back to my point, the beginning of this story. Not sure, just quite how to begin. I wait anxiously for the day in which I can write as that of a great mind. Fascination that will consume my mind, I wil become obssessed with my story, one that is not only my own, long before I am done.

 

I am awaiting eagerly... Oh so eagerly.

 

 

 

-David favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

Resurgence

 

 

At the time of which i write this, I fear the worst.

 

You see, not that i wish to cause alarm in you, or even myself, but the truth demands to be heard. I am the vessel that carries forward it's message. Please, oh please, hear it.

 

I fear, what fear has not to offer, and by these means, I am not really afraid. No, I am beyond words of which to speak for them. Words do no justice to this feeling. I search in vain.

 

Go beyond this simplistic nature and hope that you yourself do not end up like me. Hope that you do not have to rely on hope. That is our biggest loophole, our greatest challenge to overcome.

 

This odyssey will lead us to no fate other than the forefronts of our own minds, yet we will learn so much from nothing. The powr of a lesser opinion.

 

Enter the void, feel its contents and attempt to begin streaming forth words of its existence. I do not believe in such pathetic attempts, which is why I send you to do them.

 

I search for truth, I deliver the truth, and find myself a liar to my own wit. Is this a joke to my angels? Or am I just a cursed soul with no reason to break the chains that hold us tetherd to our bodies.

 

I thought once that the truth was easy, and I was right, but now wrong. The truth will only create the gap which makes me feel the way I do, knowing too much will be our downfall. As of yet however, knowing all is the one goal we share. We were, and always will be, doomed to repeat, a blight that must be reset.

 

We shall then be reborn from the ashes of our forsaken societies. Like the pheonix, we shall rise again, surge with new ideas and bring about the same cataclysm, again and again. The truth lets us choose this path, and will evermore bring about our inner chaos. Such is why, I could no longer hold the truth inside me. Truth... too large a burden.

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Oblivion...

 

 

In my oblivion...

 

The realm of ignorance.

My only regret

Time which stands still.

All too often.

 

In my oblivion, here I stand.

 

Waiting, and watching all the same.

The eye in the corner of the world, staring back ever so boldly.

The man at the far end, waving hopelessly to me.

An empty box, floating out of reach.

 

In my oblivion, where I have waited for so long.

 

An ocean stands readily for me.

The earth molds to my feet.

Every thought I have is drained away.

Each thought leaving to fill the empty box.

 

In my oblivion, where I am forced to stay.

 

The ocean welcoms me so, ever so gently caressing my body with sweetened water.

The earth follows me, tracing my arcs through the water.

Each moment passing by.

Every second, I stray farther from the waving man.

 

In this oblivion, I am law, and patron to law also.

 

I leap forth, out of sea, away from the land.

The air, the sky, and the clouds become my puppets.

Everything i do is watched.

All my movements, tracked by the eye in the corner of the world.

 

In my oblivion, where I have dreamed, lived, and passed my days.

 

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

At a loss

 

 

When i find that there is no answer, I look beyon the question.

I find that my thoughts return to me, bearing nothing.

This loop of insanity, these proccesses of mine.

Forgive me please, I am confused.

 

Another day, unto my life.

Yet another moment in which I find yearning.

Attempting to grasp my own thoughts; in vain.

I know not what I think, why am I cursed?

 

Forgive me, I know not the answer.

I thought once I knew it, but it seems I did not.

The answer eludes me, ever so slightly.

This question; one that cannot be answered.

 

Do not make a mockery of my loss, please do not.

Instead find an answer, one that I sought.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Void

 

 

 

 

Let come the sorrows.

Unto all fear and pain, let it dissolve.

Accept reality in ways unkown.

 

Dissipate now this new reality.

Understand the wanting of a generation.

Continuity is key in the unraveling of a talent.

Let come your sorrows; this eve of destruction.

 

Battle ensued by fire from the sky.

Life made prominent in endeavors told.

Unknown.

Perhaps this, and some.

We are the better.

We are the worse.

 

 

-David favret

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oxymoron

 

 

I breathe, only to be found breathless.

I understand, only to watch in confusement.

Answers of the likely and often complicated.

 

Nothing less, and nothing more.

 

Detestment unto that which is unknown.

Such discrepencies do not belong in this world.

 

All that is wanted, and all that can not be had.

 

I see the light in the darkness, only to become a shadow.

I feel warmth only to be left naked in the cold.

All in the end of a beginning.

 

You read this, only to question why.

 

 

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

Love transcribed

 

 

I do not know what for.

By these reasons implemented by you,

I am only brought to more doubt.

I find myself at the mercy of your words.

Leaving empty voids that can only be filled by you.

Feelings that I never thought I’d have, now rampant.

 

What does this make me?

Still at the mercy of words.

Seeing the value in me, and so I question it.

Are your reasons sincere?

I have no reason to doubt, but am brought still to do so.

 

My feelings turn to thoughts of obsession.

My mind is unable to think.

I am at the mercy of the words you speak.

Longing and denial come forth in a splendid dance, cascading through my body and soul.

 

Days that I will always remember,

Hold true to these feelings.

Surely, I was sure of myself on that day.

Wherever I look, at the mercy of your words.

Feelings take their toll, on this one, who is weak.

 

I am lost in these words that I say,

You are in my thoughts.

Be it I eat, sleep, or pray.

I am no longer in control of myself,

I am at the mercy of your voice.

 

With heartfelt tears and love transcribed.

So I write this, my plead of emotion.

The only true way of expression.

Nothing more I want, than to be with you.

I find myself, on this fact,

to be your puppet, at the mercy of your charm.

 

Truly, I am enslaving myself,

based on feelings I never felt before.

 

Only because your mercy towards me is true,

that I can be sure, with all my heart.

I know you are the one, and I give my love to you.

 

-David Favret

 

 

 

 

 

Just one more word

 

 

Just a word, not much to tell.

Just two words, together this duet.

Three words now, A sntence forming.

Onto the fourth, senses come to life.

Now, on five, a world is made abundantly clear.

And unto six, my heart is opened.

 

On my seventh word, I change the pace.

On my eigth word, I reveal that pain.

Forward now, on to nine, I show the mercy in them.

Left with ten, I continue new meaning.

the eleventh, joyous, such glee.

Twelve words now, what is left to see?

 

These words I write, in order, or not. I find them to be the easiness that rests upon me, their meanings are the wieght that binds me to this world. So I must ask, no, I place myself in beggars shoes and plead with you! Just one more word, I need them so.

 

 

 

-David Favret