Diaries of War
Every thought, every fear, and every feeling, has its own diary. Every dream, and every nightmare is recorded in this library.
My mind is trying to run away, my hand is chasing after it-
Every thought is eyeing escape, from the matter my heart is facing with them
My pen has been following their dissension, to the brink of emptying itself
Placing chapters in a trail of ink that outlines a silhouette myself
Books of dreams, fears, hopes, and tears sit on my shelf
Years of fighting form tiers of writing that create a collection in my library,
of war records, every front on which my heart and mind have fought
It's me, that the erection of this library has taught-
Because my vocabulary can vary, between what is conciliatory, and that, that is incendiary
Exists an infinite selection, stories of the slipperiest of slopes and the very rope i hold onto
From the 'Tales of Torment' to the stories of 'These Walls'
This is no old assortment, but a mile long log of missed calls
That mile might not be far enough for comfort,
For the battle-scarred grounds between flesh and spirit
It's not a war if attrition the mind and heart have become civilians in
Any attempt of conscious escape makes more sense,
Than any decision to take part in round after round of of what may only lead to oblivion
As every thought looks for a way out, from where the ground is shook around my heart
Another letter forms within my diary
And as far as my mind runs, my hand will follow, until my pen is completely hollow
And a new book is written for my library
Stories that stand stories from the floor,
They are, Diaries of War
About the Creator
Josh Morgan
I began writing as a means of expressing creativity, relieving stress, and venting emotions. I mention my daily battle with mental health a lot, I hope it is relatable and inspiring to readers, as writing is something I'm passionate about.
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Comments (1)
Loved your poem - especially liked this part: As every thought looks for a way out, from where the ground is shook around my heart Another letter forms within my diary And as far as my mind runs, my hand will follow, until my pen is completely hollow And a new book is written for my library