Dark Shorts parts 1 & 2

Part 1

This life full of rage is merely a battle between good and evil,

Although not in the traditional sense. Good is within me. Evil dwells there also.

So this superhero war going on forevermore is nothing you can do anything about.

I’m all alone in my fight, no one can save me. I pray and I try, but the dark seems to close in tighter.

Where is my superhero? The man in the mask and tights. He doesn’t need a cape to help me escape. Just a cool rocket car or a hidden pathway beneath the city.

The feeling of fury must be my fuel. Everyday fighting to be some bodies fool.

Wanting to be different than I know I’ll ever be. Fighting a fight that will be the death of me.

Cannot hide or escape this world. My battle is within it never unfurls.

Is this a story that every man shares? Nobody fucking cares.

All alone in my fight, where is my superhero?

I pray and I try but the fight will be the death of me.

Part 2

Dramatic ironies of the life I live are often faulty.

Awaiting the end with dreaded anticipation

My tired eyes seeing too much of this old world, filled of sadness always despising the madness.

Enjoying desperation, wanting empty fulfillment; it’s like a candy bar on a hungry stomach, enough to leave me desiring more.

Shortened breaths coming slow no matter how fast my heart tries to go.

How often the wonder slips me by with dread, with an articulate excuse.

There beyond my grasp are the things that I absolutely lack, the joy children find in rolling down a grassy knoll and the requisite delight of a fathers affirmation.

How much darker will it become before the light is finally washed in the blackness?