today my heart stopped,
my sense of living dropped.
my pain repeats,
even as i walk these empty streets.
today my heart stopped,
like a bubble it popped.
it went like a silent tear,
and for too long it was what i had to bear.
today my heart stopped,
the pain i have cannot be topped.
don't say yours is more,
it wasn't your life that tore.
i hurt someone today,
only with what i had to say.
his trembling voice revealed his pain,
and at that sound i went insane.
i hurt someone today,
but it was a debt i had to pay.
for a long time he made me worry,
but in vain he tried to say he was sorry.
i hurt someone today,
because for so long she lost her way.
for the longest time she was dead,
her life was nothing but dread.
if you're ever worried about her,
don't be,
she's me.
tell me not, in mournful numbers,
life is but an empty dream! -
for the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
life is real! life is earnest!
and the grave is not its goal;
dust thou art, to dust returnest,
was not spoken of the soul.
not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
is our destined end or way;
but to act, that each tomorrow
find us farther than today.
art is long, and time is fleeting,
and our hearts, though stout and brave,
still, like muffled drums, are beating
funeral marches to the grave.
in the world's broadfield of battle,
in the bivouac of life,
be not like dumb, driven cattle!
be a hero in the strife!
trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
let the dead past bury its dead!
act - act in the living present!
heart within, and god o'erhead!
lives of great men all remind us,
we can make our lives sublime,
and departing, leave behind us
footprints on the sands of time;
footprints, that perhaps another,
sailing o'er life's solemn main,
a forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
seeing, shall take heart again.
let us then, be up and doing,
with a heart for any fate;
still achieving, still pursuing,
learn to labor and to wait.
the tide rises, the tide falls.
the twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
along the sea sands damp and brown
the traveler hastens toward the town,
and the tide rises, the tide falls.
darkness settles on the roofs and walls,
but the sea, the sea in the darkness calls:
the little waves, with their soft, white hands,
efface the footprints in the sands,
and the tide rises, the tide falls.
the morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
the day returns, but nevermore
returns the traveler to the shore,
and the tide rises, the tide falls.
death should not be feared,
even though it takes the endeared,
it may hurt your heart,
just like a peircing dart.
death is not the end,
it's a light that helps us find the path again,
it's a way we all must take,
it's not like the traitorious snake.
death is true to the end,
now to the dead you must comend,
your heart, your soul,
sometimes living is not the goal.
i have given all that i have,
yet he wanted more,
he broke my heart in peices, making me sad,
this pain is too much to bear.
he said he was giving me a choice,
but i couldn't even raise my voice,
he gave me this curse,
every night it hurts worse.
i beg the world to show mercy,
but i cannot change what they see,
they see a killer,
but i see someone who is bitter.
i am always reminded of what i am,
one of the cursed, one of the damned,
no one knows what mine eyes have seen,
of all the years that have been.
though i seem not alone,
i always feel it in my bone,
i feel it under the skin,
causing the pain again and again.
people tell me to get over it,
but the death candle of sorrow i have already lit,
even though it causes no light,
i will choose what is wrong and what is right.
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