A Source Of Passion

We want what keeps us fighting,
A desire fed by the constant reigniting,
Of a source so potent, the fumes seem so inviting.
To a heart of solemn and solitude, a fortune of fallen dues,
Reimbursed by the valiant moods,
Of those who sit at an avalanche of altitudes,
Awaiting the arrival of a new means of fuel,
To keep the flame of passion burning strong.

Unlucky

I don't believe in war, just a burning bridge short of mutiny.
The devil dogs force out a roar; the basilisks of distorted apathy.
Torment never fought my battles and I run more than I stand my ground,
I'm being sucked down the Colorado without a paddle, only force to swim.
The current is always getting fiercer, and my body cannot withstand the waves,
Seven years from the broken mirror, my luck remains in the graves.

Too Far Away

I've grown captive to fear,
Every second drags on to an eternity,
My depression feeds off my anxieties.
Time keeps slipping through my fingers,
But I waste away as nothing;
Absent from who I used to be,
And ever so distant from who I am yet to become.

One Day

Dreams like rivers flowing,
Moonlit nights holding the glows in,
Attracted to a life that there is no hope in,
Praying for the day there is a happy end.