Diverted attention had me fooled
Victims before my eyes, still I was going
On the wrong road, slow decay, I ghouled
With time, plentiful crimes
One where I held your head bloodied yet,
Carrying a smile, tender, certainly worthwhile
Your waving red pool in between and on
My hands
Realizing I’m the dead fool who scythed
My chance
Days after each tomorrow
Absent tears of sorrow
By you they stream,
You, my requiem for a dream
EXPLANATION
"Diverted attention had me fooled" All of us start out with dreams. Many of them are crushed or polluted with automatic negative thoughts induced by ourselves and the influence of others. We are told that dreams are dreams for a reason, yet we need only our eyes and minds opened to sense the power for achievement that lies within ourselves. Dreams can become goals and goals need plans. Stick to your plan to find out if it was a correct one. Modify where necessary but do NOT be fooled by your and others insecurities. "Victims before my eyes, still I was going" Many possible selves and many dreams were slaughtered in the course of my life. Often I have suggested myself to join these murdered ideals and end my physical existence. Never have I reached complete persuasion and therefore my life is prolonged. "On the wrong road, slow decay, I ghouled" I mustered strength on any path I took to find my so-called "destiny". Made mistakes led to experience and knowledge. Every person I have been went through a slow decay, because learning is a slow process. Within each of these processes, even more mistakes are made and other teachings are queued like within a serial processing system. "With time, plentiful crimes" Simply put, I have done this process over and over again. Never have I been able to choose the right path, but each version of mine which was faulty I slayed.
"One where I held your head bloodied yet,
Carrying a smile, tender, certainly worthwhile"
There was one version of me which I tried to truly reach. A version which closely resembles a reptile, an automated AI, a psychopath. Now, I have learned to let go, yet do it so happily knowing this version tried to absorb my whole entity. It would leave no trace of my pure authentic searching self. Saddened for killing my inner psychopath, he still taught me the most. "Your waving red pool in between and on
My hands
Realizing I’m the dead fool who scythed
My chance
Days after each tomorrow
Absent tears of sorrow
By you, they stream,"
Of course, I am left with empathy and despair. Empathy drives me to feel deep pain for killing my greatest mentor. I was left with nothing but my authentic self. The same self which sought help, support, advice, mentorship… And when I received it, my freeze, fight or flight response kicked in the moment it asked of me a payment in the form of my soul's essence. I killed yet another me, another dream. I'm left with regret and doubt to resurrect.
"You, my requiem for a dream" My passed obsession, my passed addiction, my psychopathic self, for you I write this poem. This is my remembrance for the soul I took and my dream of reaching my max potential died with the body from which the soul was stolen.
Comments