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    A Calloused Compilation
    A Calloused Compilation
    A Calloused Compilation
    Ebook74 pages42 minutes

    A Calloused Compilation

    By James Christianson

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    About this ebook

    There is no greater feeling than love, but no greater pain than love lost; two extremes on the same spectrum. James Christianson offers a realists view on the torment of life through his cynical analyses of human nature and sociology through aesthetically descriptive poetry. Knowing that pain is a natural part of life makes evil easier to handle when you are reminded that you are not alone.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJames Christianson
    Release dateDec 5, 2011
    ISBN9781466131170
    A Calloused Compilation
    Author

    James Christianson

    James Christianson was born in Southern Oregon. As a natural born analytic, James found a great interest in people watching and searching for answers to human behavior. A confusing life full of lost love and tormenting relationships, the best outlet was to organize disturbing thoughts through writing. James Christianson has been published in many multiple author compilations and featured on a professionally read Compact Disc. With many more books on their way, it was time to branch out on his own. He holds the firm belief that the "starving artists and starving authors" are the creators of the free world exercising their constitutional rights and offering an escape from the mundane and repetitive daily patterns by offering new views on life's circumstances.

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      Book preview

      A Calloused Compilation - James Christianson

      …Continuance

      …Begging for life and kicking for answers

      Struggling for order in a life of disaster

      Killing myself for hope of things getting better

      But nothing is comforting when nothing matters

      Black, as darkness envelopes this room

      Where once there was truth are feelings aloof

      And if I could think, I could will myself to move

      But nothing is comforting when nightmares bring proof

      Indifferent towards suffering or welcoming rather

      What is a heart but stained glass well shattered

      Or a section of a meal, presented upon this platter

      A skeptic towards life in the life of a doubter

      Hold me in death as I offer myself

      Cry with me as I now drain myself

      A liar to all, all who defiled my self

      A liar to no one, no one but myself

      Touch me and know what’s hidden inside

      Stains on your clothes where honesty resides

      Shaking and cold, your presence so unkind

      Cradling a corpse, your attempts now denied

      How is this reality when this reality is fading

      Destroying figments of a life quickly decaying

      Stability on a thread continually fraying

      Emotional distress and sicknesses invading

      I could have said sorry, but you already knew

      Every word I spoke was spoken for you

      Every drop bled amongst flesh sheared through

      Every qualm I’ve met has an attraction so new

      I wish for a change, a change you’ve seen me create

      If only your conscience could ever relate

      Pleasure my agony with pain meant to sedate

      You wanted to love me, but your determination’s too late…

      128

      I wear these scars upon my face

      Eyes stare in a distant state

      No one I know

      Has been so cold

      Blinded by briberies, I never believed what was told

      This chain of evil never strayed from wrongs

      Every word you spoke always stung

      Someone pull me out

      Too weak to stand stout

      I’m so pathetic now I accepted all that brought me down

      Pop this fucking cell

      Let me out

      Too depressed to look around

      What got me here

      Where am I now

      Tear these goddamn walls out; you’ll never hold me down

      So, read these scars on my face

      Follow the events building such haste

      The past, altered past

      And destroyed so fast

      I’ve rebuilt it all, too powerful to trap

      With nothing but time my mind’s running cold

      A half smile on a torn face, souls of red and gold

      You were sent to the enemy

      I understand your joke

      You don’t choose your path; your life’s already been sold

      2226

      Angel wings and pentacles

      A sadistic embrace of tentacles

      An ideology of perfection

      Left in cinders of retrospection

      A headache unlike before

      A Heartache eager to gorge

      This prediction leaves no surprise

      That dreams are wishes of demise

      With promises so eagerly sent

      A physical lacking now proves discordant

      Questions are never returned

      But love is constantly assured

      Struggling through gestured topics

      Inane avoidance of the misanthropic

      A philter upon a sacred hand

      Claiming your chosen one still stands

      Fighting suppression to let it be known

      The planted seed of love has been sewn

      Though diverted eyes prove relationships mangled

      I refuse to believe I’m just your fallen angel

      Manipulate to dissipate, reprogramming to recreate…Perfection

      By my own divine design

      Ayatollah

      Even in these unwelcome times

      I’m thankful for the pain life has shown

      Through the dark and disfigured shadows

      Your celestial smile has shone

      Attracted by azure eyes

      But I remain

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