My death be the destruction of my mothers art and the pain be in vain of her existence, for I am ignorant to the truth that happiness sets before me and I’m blinded by the perspective that sadness portrays.
Crazed by anguish and a love that could never be fully met, I slaughter hope as it makes reach toward my squeaking door.
I’m scared to know that love isn’t where I’ve invested most of its fruit and I’m scared to know that I cradled the cold embrace of betrayal for so long.
I can’t find myself, nor do I know who I really am, but I’ve managed to find my esoteric assembly; the only few to truly understand.
The simplicity I seek seems further than my reach and though I live on its corridor I am not given the peace to enjoy its splendor.
All I seek is the joy, and I am constantly discouraged to live but I don’t know why. I bury deep the voiceless coerce that I so passively let destroy the inner me.
For I find no visible foot path that could lead me to my true home…
My heart burns and my eyes tear only to think that I’m no where near its occurrence.
It’s my duty and I shall see to it, there is a frame to set her portrait high.
Description:Of no conscience
My name: Daniel H. Schluckebier. I am slightly an aggressive person with a good sense of humor. Man on a mission with goals to achieve. I love spending time to myself or with weird and interesting people. I love writing and into artistic thinking. I enjoy creating new identities and tend to be multi-personalistic from time to time... Considered mysterious and random. Not to be annoyed or upset. Very easy going...
Friday, February 20, 2009
My Death
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