Smitten With Agony Read Count : 96

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A
Awoken from a nightmarish telltale that Affianced me to Agony, splendored persuasion had me second guessing the reality I'm pursuing, or was reality slowly escaping my grasp, was I on the edge of catastrophe overlooking a treacherous shore?

Wrestling with my thoughts inside the broken barriers of my mind, I can't relate my gut instinct with what I am believing like a torn family within my soul, her habituation has scorned her soul and stigmatized her family, the hole inside of her was always craving more.

But now she's grounded by the projecting of her false image, now she's laying her cards on the table for all to see, now she's in groups falsely admitting everything wasn't what it seemed, now she's convincing everyone to make believe, now she's pointing to the front with a foot out the back door.

Cautiously I'm riddling the chassis of chaos that once consumed, walking the plank of confidence that shakes, I'm in love again with misery, my withdrawals from grief are withheld, I'm trusting the  braille of dissolution, my misguided faith is lead by the folklore of her encore.

Steadfast into her mendicity I'm to bring a sister to the now toddler, my short sale to bricklay a foundation for us was my courage to endure, a new life into our family was the best path to keep the Demons away, only long enough for duplicity by seduction to implore many more claymores.

From three to four, we are now indebted among each other to hold high responsibilities to one another, I provided all aspects to a glimmering future, in the meantime her mendicity to swindle the mind was my demise to dwindle, a candle burning at both ends by prevarication, this made our family mindful prisoners of war.

My plan to build our castle was slowly coming to fruitation as all events lead to our true freedom, something a fiend will always want, freedom to control by the ways of a narcissist, something that I never imagined to lay with me, slavery of the mind because I'm in love with misery of a maniac, going forward would only become a civil war, slowly isolated and alone I'm planting our future, miles under the sea shore.

Blinded to all truths believing our future is intact indefinitely, I push painful tragedies  aside to continue my love for Bereavement, because death makes me believe, in our new castle with two little seeds made by make believe, being Smitten with Agony I implore, taking our first picture of a perfect family in front of our first castle, standing above her carefully laid trap door.

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