So afraid to be alone we build a costume of sorts to hide our deepest flaws all while disguised as what everyone wants us to be. For a long while we lead double lives within ourselves while your soul aches to shed this costume you’ve created for yourself at the seems, and let your individuality blossom. A beautiful and natural cause to the effect of societal standards, yet we’re somewhat acceptable of not being who we truely are because it just feels good to be accepted. An endless cycle of suffering that can only be misguided by wisdoms immortalized voice. A poem by Jacob Scott Mullins

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At a moments notice, right as lips seal together every ounce of pain you’ve felt for feeling like you weren’t enough fades away like the night in the day. Shining amongst your shoulders and warning your heart to the comforting realization that it really can get better.

Nights aren’t like an endless typhoon of emotions stained in memory anymore. The pain becomes and old picture shoved away into the cracks of the floorboard, never to be seen again.

You now remember the way the leaves at the tips of trees dance for you at the gentle push of the wind, a beautiful sight to take in but one to savor.

Through the cycles of love I have chosen to learn from each departure and with it a new section of armor to protect the ones I love from past mistakes.

Like a Phoenix rising through despair I’m finally able to breathe again.
By Jacob Scott Mullins

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Endless cycle

There’s something torrential about the pain that centers in your chest throbbing with pain but blissful to purge. One soul to another with intent to prosper shatter each other with the skeletons they thought wouldn’t rise in the glimmering moonlight. I yearn to feel love for what it is supposed to be and not mistakes that bind a man’s heart too tight. jsm.

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Higher purpose

Woven into the fabric of time and space with a minescule task to survive in a universe bigger than comphrehension I start to wonder if my actions really ripple enough to be noticed. Feeling small isn’t necessarily a bad thing it just means there’s a whole universe to explore and to tame. Secrets that unveils with each new discovery. I believe the birth of man lies somewhere in the stars. With questions on gallery in my mind they’re presented so that I may never look to far away. I ponder death and the release of my soul, the endless possibilities of what may be. But by the definition of infinate probability transcendence could be real. I ache in a world filled with death, destruction, hate and greed to bask in the parallel of the negativity were surrounded with. A mere play of words can’t explain my desire for the unkown so I live day by day anticipating my final hour. For once my time comes release will bring peace and the age old questions will be answered about heaven or hell, transcendence and reincarnation I will let my soul slip away like the light escaping the darkness to a new beginning one I will be chosen for

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The forces of heaven and hell, the damned and the holy will one day ring the bell of sin

For us humans are only pawns of a bigger picture, a struggle and a war our civilizations have yet to see will be the restoration of man.

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Purity isn’t always clear

Pure or obscure I’m aware my end could be near but could you walk here in my shoes? Wrapped in my life’s shadows they dance around me like the dust in the light and they are many.  The light shows all that I need to know, now close your eyes and open your 3rd go deep in your mind, certain thoughts and feeling will accur and maybe perhaps with belief, negativity will blur into obscurity. This is to encourage you to think and to act, to remember and not to forget to embrace and not let go of grasp. Pure or obscure are you aware that death never misses an appointment. So live for now, for today. Wisely.

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Inner warpath

Scared of nothing I cut through my demons one at a time, decapitating them at their core. Inner peace leads me and guides my hand through the flesh of the unpure. Purging my mind of the negative so that the positive might take root, I realize I’ve been fighting for 20 years and no matter how many I cut down another will sprout in its wake. But even so I can never let my demons run amock inside me, I for see and endless massacre of my darkest faults and the undying spirit of the sword when angry. Will I ever escape my humanity.

A poem by: Jacob Mullins

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