Silent Fears

by Beautiful Chaos   May 9, 2011


How do you reveal your darkest self?
Not your skeletons that hang boldly in the closet,
Those closest to you know those secrets,
But the things, that sometimes, you even hide from yourself.

How do you mask your inner demons?
The depraved wishes that disturb your conscience,
Thoughts and plans that make you question your very sanity,
But then, what is sanity?

Love at its height is blissful,
But in its darkest hour, insanity is its cage,
Hatred born from beauty,
Selfish desire breeding contempt.

Indifference can nurture sociopathic tendencies,
Awakening inner monsters,
Voices that call for revenge, pain, even blood,
A nature that sometimes feels too natural.

You may never set them free,
But their very existence scares you,
Because you fear what you cold turn into,
The very thing you never want to be, heartless.

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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by Milo

    "The hardest thing for a foster kid is to change the very life they were taught to live."

  • 6 years ago

    by Milo

    A beautiful poem. I dont know why im so drawned to this poem, but I see brilliance in it and I am compelled.

    "Love at its height is blissful,
    But in its darkest hour, insanity is its cage,
    Hatred born from beauty
    Selfish desire breeding contempt"

    This line speaks volumes on levels I dont think many can relate to.

    "You may never set them free,
    But their very existence scares you,
    Because you fear what you cold turn into,
    The very thing you never want to be, heartless."

    The last stanze by far touches the deepest and darkest parts of my heart. Its not love that compels my entire heart, but the demons, the choices I have wronged, that finds comfort in who I am. This poem alone is truly amazing to me because of how it relates. I spent my childhood in the projects and I have experienced things that kids shouldnt have. Regardless, the thing that scares a foster kid the most is not the darkness of our past, but the future that has yet to be written. Its not the things we experienced, but the person we become because of it; the person of becoming heartles.

    This poem is beautiful and I just want you to know that. Thank you.

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