Tragic Protagonist

faith

not religious

not sacrilegious

just faith in this

faith in you

in me

without faith

we all become bitter

the blind individuals scorn

makes his frigid winter slither

with no faith he has given in

down right quit on life

committing a cardinal sin

against himself amidst the strife

but there is light for this man

but if only he sees

faiths all part of the plan

whether its in you....or in me

i can feel it coming.

like the change in season,

and from it im running.

in fear of losing my reason.

i try and walk it out.

i try to count to ten.

but the hate inside surmounts,

and i turn into the beast I've always been.

my mouth spits words,

that scorch and burn.

me eyes shoot speeding bullets.

when and how can they ever learn.

to let be this quiet poet?

but now i strain to keep my sanity

and laugh and sneer at my forgotten rule

just one more broken promise ive made me

to never again be angers fool

i can feel it coming

like the change in season

and from it im running

in fear of losing my reason

i try and walk it out

i try to count to ten

but the hate inside surmounts

and i turn into the beast I've always been

my mouth spits words

that scorch and burn

me eyes shoot speeding bullets

when and how can they ever learn

to let be this quiet poet

now for my sanity i strain

but i am such a tool

ive let myself once again

be turned into anger's fool

im not myself tonight

my self is somewhere else

my sanity has taken flight

to visit different hells

thoughts distorted brains a mess

cant focus for sh*t

i hope this isnt a test

i breath real deep

try and find my center

but from this mind will seep

this awful farewell letter

looking down from among the clouds

i hear a soft lament

the stars cover me in their soft shrouds

the beautiful sky is my wonderful tent

i can feel it coming

like the change in season

and from it im running

in fear of loosing my reason

i try and walk it out

i try to count to ten

but the hate inside surmounts

and i turn into the beast I've always been

my mouth spits words

that scorch and burn

me eyes shoot speeding bullets

when and how can they ever learn

to let be this quiet poet

now for my sanity i yearn

but i am such a tool

ive let myself once again

be turned into anger's fool

he looks at me head c0cked to the side

eyes a mystery cause hes so cool

he fights me with all his pride

like hes some drunken fool

he runs about without a care

makes me smile when im down

i pet and stroke his silky hair

on his face you'll never see a frown

he knows more about this world

than any scholar I've ever met

he looks at me as though unsure

his name is frank and hes my pet

hahaha....frank is my cat....and he brings out the happy poet...as apposed to the depressing one lol