And at last he prayed,
Prayed since all hope had perished,
All virtues faded and all sentiments gone.
Down the river he now floats, cursed with angst and pain.
He mourns his loss but his grief won't go away, for this is the consequence —
The consequence of action he so inadvertently did without a second of thought.
Oh, the lives he ruined, the chaos he brought.
Denial is the river, and denial is what he sought.

In denial he drowned,
And in denial he remained.

-Asher Graves

The weather seems alright, beautiful and uptight,
Sweet with less avarice, an endless horizon, and a fleeting sight.
In my world, she was the weather,
I could do anything, but with her, I seem to do better.
Nothing seemed impossible, not even venturing through the Nether.
Effulgent was her presence; enticing, her nature,
The talks kept getting better and better and better,
It felt like the one we were looking for was here to savor.

Malicious and full of grief that once seemed as my future,
Looked like a disoriented thought more than ever.
I remember,
Back in the day when I was wilding,
Beautiful waves of comedic relief were a frequent sighting,
I used to have fun and not fight,
These demons, these thoughts that were always spouting,
Restraining me since I always doubted (myself),
But I knew there's always something,
To get me started,
I relinquished myself from ever doubting.

Nostalgic,
Thought that would be the way to deal with such things,
Big mistake! Because I got apprehended,
Condescending, thoughts got crazy; nobody to talk to, baby.
Misdirection, mazes of maybes, intercepting, decisions hazy,
On second thought, this person's lazy.

Now in a field of darkness, so full of despair,
I found you out of nowhere,
A spark of light and a gasp for air,
That's what I felt when my gaze landed upon you,
That even I could prosper, even by the length of a hair.
I was delighted for that came as a conclusion,
For a long time, I hadn't smiled, but then I did, as if I were adhered,
Sickeningly, any bond I form is doomed to fall, I fear,
Regardless of how much I do, it's always a "Too Sweet" kind of dilemma, my dear,
I don't easily love, but I loved you, even if it was due to my insecurities and issues, I state my mind clear,
Kind of pointless to rant and yap to myself, writing paragraphs upon paragraphs, hoping you'd notice; clowning myself, makes me jeer,
I guess that's how the story goes for a hopeless romantic expecting love to be simple as he was sincere.

With all these melodramatic events, I reckon he could really do some improv,
One such thing is doing a show, but won't it be too rough?
He might become yet another one to bite the dust,
A victim of emotion,
A victim of trust.
Life's predicament is quite harsh and if not for his experience, he'd been lost,
Though sounds drastic and revolting,
Giving up can also be a sign of love,
A hope for emotion,
A hope for trust,
Thus, this lousy "Rascal doesn't dream of falling in love”.

                                                                                      -Asher Graves

I never lost faith in love, I was just scared
All around me I felt the loss in the air
The spring always baffled me;
For the winter was never there
In the basket of life, I felt the dread drawing near
The anticipation was vexing for a simple guy lying bare

I lost touch with my hobbies
I lost touch with my buddies
I lost being that funny guy
Who spoke so angelic; Truly Euphoric with a good sense of that comedic relief
I lost….
Lost the confidence, lost being the player
Lost my patience and a head full of loose screws
Time healed the wound but what about the ruse?
What about those sentiments? What about the bruise?
What about those promises? What about the cruise?
I was a little negligent but, what about you?

You talk about promises but all you do is ruse.
You talk about sentiments but all you do is refuse.
You talk about amendments but all you do is bruise.
You took away the sobriety and let it all loose
You took away the honesty and you took me for a fool
All I ever wanted I was to fall in love, thought you were the muse
I never lost faith in love, I just got used like a tool
                                                                                     -Asher Graves

Harder to imagine, Difficult to trust
if you have the will, you gotta clutch.
                                                             -Asher Graves

News flows like wildfire, Reporters outside covering the case
Actuality is falsified, Justice as always late
                                                            ­          -Asher Graves

It all starts with a thought that follows a pop
So vivid and appealing like a curious onslaught
Then the person starts grooving out of the block
Views change, make shift, foundations are formed
Weak flame, pledged words, a moth to a bulb
Big talks, fake blogs, witfully involved

Visually lost, embraced the chaos, but that’s not enough
Growth-fully stunned, what’s wish to a cause, gracefully lost
Blinded by love, falling down a slump, to fulfill the duty to the loved ones
Amidst the carnage, the survivor can’t protest
Ravages of wars again and again, without a break
Leaves the person with nothing intact, no sense of sobriety
No realizations, No hope, just pitch black dent
And nothing’s new just plain ol’ Lament

While everything seems to make them upset
Moderating the pain to soothe the backlash
Fell in depravity, now can’t even sleep for a sec
No notion or moderation yet they try to fulfill their conquest
Their whole world is falling apart yet they can’t seem to stop themselves
For all they know is to work and work and work, so inhumane-like self
A glimpse of countless fallen souls, heroes bound for hell,
Enduring storms so cruel, even therapy lost its spell.
What you talk to isn’t even a human anymore but a charred combusted shell
Whose silence screamed for help
For years they endured so much, a salute to their resilient self

Wish someone would have noticed their stutter
Some kind words, a simple compliment, a flutter
Maybe a graceful guide, bucket-full of hopes and a house of surprise for shelter
Maybe a good friend, and a great teacher, for them to not pretend either
To mend the vice of the bitter, cries of the Aether, heart that is cluttered
Before it falls back to the nether

Their cries went in vain yet the voices still refrain
Afraid of losses and faces scorned with disdain
Forcefully smiling throughout the pain
Imminently violent and without restraint
Engulfed in the darkness for the darkness smothers their brain

Vengeful and perplexed without a rest
Their hatred is genuine, perfectly jest
For the cries that went unseen and the angst of mesh
A turmoiled life, A fractured mess

Hope is but a blundered sail
Plethora of monologues, a crumbling rail
Exhausted sighs, eerie gales
A Note Not Worth The Bother
A Ghastly tale
                                                                  -Asher Graves

I wonder what the pages I left hanging feel.
All of the things I promised I would write on it — gone just like that.
Does it still have the faith in me?
Will it ever be able to trust someone else if they found it?

I feel sorry for those pages,
but I do have a reason!
I may not be the best person there is,
but I do wish for every page to be finished —
pages full of words, proud and filled.

But if I were to deliberately finish one
just for the sake of finishing it —
won't that be unfair to the page?

Therefore, I made a painful decision:
to leave it unfinished!
Unfinished it may be, so,
but at least it will still have the essence of something meaningful.

I hope the page forgives me
for what I took away from it.
But I never had a better choice.

After all,
it is my fault.

                                                                                   -Asher Graves