Blurred lines on bleeding walls
Seeping with secrets no human can hold.
That single, hollow, faint echo calls
And leaves me here, alone and cold.
Bitter memories dance in hallucination
While promises turn to lies.
Meaningless words, a harmful incantation,
A snake sent to ensure demise.
Which way to turn?
Which path to take?
Which trail burns?
Which road is fate?
The walls tell their secrets,
Their song fills my ears.
From the ceiling to the carpets,
They reveal my deepest fears.
I have chosen this path once before.
It damaged me greatly,
Closed to the world forevermore.
Why did this choose me?
What did I do?
Frayed and and forgotten?
Not possibly true.
Ink splatters on my fingers
As the walls encourage the words.
That awful hatred lingers,
A dark force never meant to be heard.
Life’s path presents many opportunities
And one must always learn and grow.
To make it through toil and oddities,
We must live all that we know.
Andrew J. Stillman | The Artist Mindset 