[awwlie]

---

.

.

I began to write poems when in my youth.

I asked myself, why I wrote these poems.

I never could answer that.

.

I let you down, didn't I sister?

I told you of my dreams, ambitions.

I chased them like a starving fox chases prey.

d.

Told they did,

'you'll never amount to anything, please do not chase these foolish dreams!'

.

I brushed past their judgement, their wishes to protect me like a diamond.

In truth their words faded and my mind created anew.

They worried for me, held me close; while I pushed them away.

I wonder now.. where they are now,

My sister.. my parents.

Does it even matter?

I've left myself to wonder that, all alone.

One day I will learn.

---

 

[awwlie]

.

I sit here late at night thinking,

is it all worth inking.

Books crowd like ghosts by my side,

their spines shut tight to my lack of sight.

.

.

One day —

I'll wake up,

see that my world is all paid up.

. 

. 

Maybe —

on that day,

I'll figure out myself at decay,

and not just as an Omen of Burden..

.

[awwlie]

---

---

I feel the need to be different,

to act someone else, who I am not but all ways dignant.

I want to be like the ones I once saw so benignant,

offer my tears, sweat, heart for one decent.

---

They'll look at me they see a beggar,

not one crying for help, but one lost forever.

I'd ask for help but fear I'd be shrugged aside,

perhaps that's why I am content and cried last night.

---

There's no telling how long I'll last,

build a story of how I lost my past.

See the plans I made fall and turn to ash,

all the while wish I could've struck someone and made a slash.

[awwlie]

Dear Diary,

....

I am not sure what to write today,

to say I feel, would be a lie - something I can't spew in this way.

Should I throw back my hair, lie a little,

even while in the middle of this riddle?

....

....

To say, I feel exhausted perhaps would be correct,

chasing this concept of I think perfect..

Stuck in this dream state, with a smile on my face,

feel like I am standing on a world so fake.

....

I'll close my eyes, fall asleep,
hope those around me understand the what is the peak.

Bring it on, I won't feel phased,

I just want to be praised...

....

Too much to ask, that might be,

my blade sings of intent, of danger - 

perhaps of a guarantee..

....

I am, here now to protect others,

care for myself is lost, just like in a another.

You were the last brick to my wall,

I'll miss you, till hopefully I hear your call.

....

[awwlie]

---

Dear Diary,

I am exhausted, not because I feel alone.

- Because I feel lost.
So lost that I've decided to march against my old home,

but then - I realized, I told them.
I would join those who'd see them burnt down.
. . .

-

This day, will be the day I finish something.
I betray those who once guided me.

Can I even blame myself,
I told them.

. . .

-

I know my faith now, I know the words.

Kill, or be killed.
Curse, or be cursed.

Only, I am already walking upon death, and curses.

For once they see me, they will hunt me down.

I know it.

. . .
-

Yet, I can not do neither.
Only I pray the dance, I have perfected.
With you, and you - to be worth all these years.
I only hope you understand why I do this, my dear o'mentor. 
. . .

-

Grant me your strength, for once.. will you?

[awwlie]

''never meet your idols''

A lone blade sings like a fang,

thirsting for what once went wrong.

Arisen to meet flesh it would taste,

and paint the ground beneath in haste.

Purpose giveth meaning for all,

songs of agony meet in fall.

Select your battle before the season wane,

waste not a minute in fear of cries.

Become part of your blades will,

do not fear its intent to kill.

 For steel and soul are one in fight,

in the end there is no light.

[awwlie]

Humility,

It sings praise,

it ends once the song ends.

...at a certain point, one must leave everything behind.

...views of the world,

...emotions.

A solemn goodbye for all,

while a new page turns on the story of an playwright,

who never was able to finish her own story.