I am the king

I am the king… I am the slave. I am the mystery. The deity called sacrificial pain. In you heart I am forfeit… in your mind I am the dark passage, the one you push to the dark cold charcoal wall. But my nails scratch… you remember me. I am the prisoner of my pain. The keeper of the lost knowledge… a hypocrite. I am the fool of the foolish. Take no heed for I am of the forgotten breed. I screw up all… for it is in my fate to fail. Never have I succeed lest for pushing everyone away. I doubt anyone can love me when my mother does not. I am the exodus and the seta of all fallen hopes the begging of nothing. I am empty; lost. I no longer know who I am or why I do things. The flock… a slave. A bitter rave at my absence. To know I am unwanted in such a world. I see puppets proposed by popularity. For I had this… I do not want it again. One of the many casts of slavery. Doing what others want. Dressing as they would. I am my own person. Again I pushed someone away. For it is all I have left to do. I still cry over my mother and my Pegasus. I love them both still but I can never be with them again. And because of everyone I love and get close to rips my heart out… am I not to be afraid. You raise a child to be hated and tell him he will never be loved… then someone asks him to forfeit his past and take a chance… and expect him not to fear? You can not ask this of me. I take no demands. The words of others do hurt. In many ways… and the lack of words to hurt as well. I do love…. And I do fear that love and being loved in return. For all I know and all I still do not, my past and my future. I am but a man. I know not what I want nor what I want to be. Many tell me I am smart and I waste it… maybe I do. But I can only follow my heart. You ask me to trust when everyone I trust has hurt me. But I do welcome the pain… for it has taught me. I am again to the same point I live in… after one night of soul searching I embark on a new dimension of my life. But 3 days later I am still in the same realm I left. I can no longer help when I don’t even trust myself. My hands and a curse. Some say I have a gift of words… I say it is a curse. I no longer know who I am. Nor what I want to be. I feel as if I have nothing left to give. Yes the same despair many feel. I still have my life ahead of me to choose as well as to find love. We are all hypocrites for I can pull your own wisdom you place to me when you should use it for yourself. You say I am foolish I have many days to find what I want to do and to find love… when you yourself hurts for many of the same reasons… but you are wrong about me I don’t have as much time as you think. As each day passes my heart weakens. I push myself past the limit. And not the limit is pushing me. many tell me I as cute and a nice guy and whom ever I fall in love with is lucky and both my mother and Pegasus are stupid to negate my love. How can I believe this to be true you can tell as you want unless I do believe you it is all in vain. The same as me to you. We all tell others the same as they do us… yet we listen to none of them. This is why we are hypocrites.