Once I was a good man.
Loyalty and honesty were my great traits,
Through the years these grew and earnest kept,
Aloud this pride of mine all gave reprieve there,
The food of theirs my life exalt this in me so fare,
Haste that brought me here our shared drink apt,
Of my life theirs feigned happiness mine genuine,
But can all man deceived so this falling ruin injure me.
Stay and read, yet we all experience this so far:
Was only cumbersome to have laughed and breathed;
For that had breathed in these fumes poison, of theirs,
Where touched by their words, these which charred,
What words, that in this company am hearing this:
My presence just mockery but solely faint though,
This angered me, my stomach began to compress,
Forgive this rhyme; for I too was about to depress,
Alas this life only rhymes with rife and strife, no no;
For theirs is rife, but mine of happiness and here.

Winter is my finer hour this night prolonged I,
That this cold relate in me, gave myself strength;
And roughed up to hate upon all who walk on me,
Longer no; am resolute in establishment and reprise,
No good nor kindle fire ever bring the warmth all the same,
No heat can ever melt my ice frozen about me that is,
And as I endure this pain in me, that pleasure only grows,
Signed in Conscience mine, that this happiness is and no smile requires,
That only fine detail to the smallest of the fair and wise large in scope not,
Since the gaze great gives the answer in me of life explored yet,
Seen enough of this place, and so create my own life of love;
This life seen; alas reader what one says of the biggest of all worlds:
Exists two worlds: one seen and one thought. Found upon latter my love,
Seen, objectively, only hatred our only nutrient for that hearth survival of,
And where all the gods live in the latter, myself included so as equals we,
Some strangers lurk even in day this darkness: our sun only illusion first,
What, these! Am only as good as my contrary; more warmth, more the mind,
See these humans live, myself included, alas what known and what deceived,
Breathe faintly, only difference in life and death solely the mind. More, more;

Not mad, but only a better man neither good nor evil,
The day rises and falls as do Her empire, I look eastward;
Westward there is only my fall, am travelling there towards,
And sat I beside, where this peace grant the Nature preserved:-

More for devotion to you, this I pass and learned;
Let lowned autumn beckon the fall of Her my rise in fall,
Resolved, am only the man once said I thought I was;
For any man changed divides us in two only so the fire rage,
That where we touch so burn this in ours mine so parallel, lo;
Was winter once, and almost a year since my first of all the cards,
To have rolled a knave and failed to impress; am not The Player at all,
But from what I’ve learned is that in our deaths our higher state attained,
That we shall mourn the chances we missed, always: even if thought made,
Though, as wrinkles appear my mind slowly fades into darkness;
My body shrivels, and so does my world; give me reprieve, dearest reader;
That concluded in mine, so we derive that life in essence, casts this forth:
Truth is the only lie, and known we perceive what we believe as fact;
What thought, if god exists then so do I; and shall fade as do I.

My daughter, let go of my hand for it shall be the last moments ere I pass,
Wished in I that you live the life you ought to lead, but stray far from perfection;
Imperfections in life lead to the objective perfection, know this:
We are only as imperfect as perfect can be; such as you and I,
My family call me mad, and have cast me away; but you my only audience,
That if I were the only Reasoned man in this world, then the whole world is mad;
That if all walked backwards and I Forward, am mad only still?
That for all to utter gibberish, and I neither truth nor lie; am mad yet?
Though this asylum might serve a purpose, but only for I be ridden of madness;
But, what of it: whether mad or no, am I only a threat to world and all?
Take my journal, and let others read it; my time is almost spent and can longer write no.

Spend days better for the envied are the misunderstood,
But only so that we are labelled and propagated that reproach,
And look now, the tears exaggerated from your loved ones;
All the same who brought you here, this in me arouses wrath,
I pity myself for not knowing you longer than my life,
Only caring about your will and testament, I desire nothing,
That in this world perhaps the most realised are the most Reasoned,
That the ignorant are the only so mad to have confined us in their space,
Only young, but I love you all the same.

Category:
Family, Mysterious, Nature, Poetry, Works
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