whatsunknown

like a puppet i pull your strings like a ventriloquist i command your speech like a clock i wind you up to act by my will i am your controller and your addiction

He wipes the blood from his brow, parrying the blade going for his head. his shield bent out of shape but still holding firm, scarred and blackened from strikes and flame. his clothes torn from the battles, his body screaming from exertion. with a deceptive fient, he bashes the shield forward before striking out when his opponent was unbalanced. this went on for days, weeks, months. his shield long forgeten, his blade warped and rendered dull. he falls to one knee, left eye useless as he uses his right to survey the battlefield. all the bodies left to rot, all the comrads picked by crows. as he breathes his last breath, he lets out one final

For I am only that which I'll never be, forever isolated within my sorrows. Yet, I am free of them, ascending into the future. And if I may make my stand, within plain view for all to see, let me predefined fate lift the Burden from those who are destined to follow. I am not a visionary, nor am I a leader. I am just a speck, one that decided to take a stand and try to move a mountain. I am not a wall, but a single stone who decided to try and dam the flow and ease the pressure for all others. Look not at what I succeeded in doing, but at the failures I continue to overcome. We may not be perfect, but the imperfections are what make us unique.

it hurts my memories unceasing never leaving me alone they hurt my existence i want to just forget them but i will never forget the pain the ones i caused the ones inflicted on me the ones that scar me I'm sorry sorry to all those souls in the past in my history the ones i was ignorant to the ones where i will never get to say goodbye or sorry i wish i could make things right everywhere i go i am reminded of my past never to live it down i wish i could erase my history not the good history only that which i can not control i am grateful for all those i have met the friends i have known for years the ones that never judg

how do i get out of here. why is the exit hidden. i feel compelled to escape, but from what. i know not what i fear, but know fully despise. if not hear then where. when does it stop. when do i trully begin. to live is to die somewhere else. to hell with it all. i am never here when i need to be. but always away when trouble befalls me. where does it end. if it ends here, then where is the satifaction. if there is no satisfaction, then there is no true end to life. what have we, as humans, ever done to gain a true sense of accomplishment. that answer is nothing, and nothings all we ever get. all i ever wanted was to