have i been so malign

i am overburdened

there are pieces missing

the smell of the flea market, old...decaying...immature...something that has never left the ground...forever bound...holding on to the old and useless, the burdens of our lives

i see this around me

i see this in myself, maybe something stagnent, and a part of me that has given in

do i even know what i am standing in line for? so many chapters are unopened.

i must admit, apathy at times seems all to close, and all to tempting. but i cannot, will not forget what you've given up for me

i am running, the voices have convinced me that it is the only way. if i dont stop will i not escape?

my emotions seem uncontrollable at times, they immobalize me and fill my heart with hate 

i am disordered, as things crumble around me i am also tempted to fall

he boy stands by the gate

he walks alone, the others that where with him have gone on ahead

his walk was slow; his steps faint

his clothes, ragged and torn, are a reminder of where he's been

once clean they are stained by the desires of his world

the eyes once full of life have faded, and the smile, once so bright has gone from his face

the world around him has changed its hue

the load on his back grows as he walks serving as a temporary gravity till death takes him down

around his neck hangs the scrap he once thought to be trophies

the blood drips eternal from the open wounds in his heart

and the scars on his hands show of what was left of his effort

the sweat and dirt cover his face

in an effort to run he has fallen

the expression he wears is one not of anger or pain but of a great longing

a unsatiable desire for peace; an end to the wars he's lost

he tries to raise his hand but stops for fear of abandonment

what is a boy to do?