The "almost" complete works of Derek Neilson

I am the bring er of madness I am the un rave ller of sanity I am the destroyer of reason I am psychosis I come in the night I come in the day I come in the morning I come in the evening I am the whispers in your ear I am the voice in your head I am the darkness that surrounds you I am psychosis I am the fear that grips you I am the anxiety that eats at you I am the depression that engulf s you I am psychosis I am the memories that haunt you I am the nightmares that torture you I am the terror that paraly zes you I am psychosis I am chaos I am destruction I am death   I am psychosis  

Tomorrow, and tomorrow , and tomorrow , Cre eps in this petty pace from day to day , To the last syll able of recorded time ; And all our yes ter days have light ed fools The way to dusty death . Out , out , brief candle ! Life 's but a walking shadow , a poor player That str uts and fre ts his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more : it is a tale T old by an idiot , full of sound and fury , Sign ifying nothing .

The lone Amalekite convert,   Who braved the journey alone,   To a land where he was not known,   In search of truth and light.   He found it in the pages of a book,   That told of Jesus Christ,   And His love for all mankind.   The Amalekite convert knew,   That this was the message he needed to hear,   And so he took it to heart.   Now he shares it with others,   In the hope that they too will find   The peace and happiness that comes from knowing Christ.

The Wat cher stands alone in the night vigil antly keeping watch over all He is the protector of the innocent and the bring er of justice For He knows that evil lur ks in the hearts of men And He will not rest until it is destroyed He is the light in the darkness and the hope in despair He is The Wat cher

The pain is like a fire It burns and consumes Everything in its path There is no escape from the inferno It rages on unrelenting and unstoppable The o nl y thi ng th at can quen ch t he fl ame s  i s deat h  

C ursed keys , that open up the door To all the ter rors that I 've seen and more What dark secrets do they hold ? Do they lead to a place where I 'll never return ? I can 't help but wonder as I grasp them tight What sort of fate awaits me beyond this door ? Is it a world of nightmares or something worse ? I may never know , for these cursed keys won 't let me go . They hold me captive in this dark and d re ary place Where the only sound is the beating of my heart And I can 't help but wonder , as I sit here in the dark W hat s ort of fate awa its me?  

I am surrounded by people and yet I feel so alone. They talk and laugh and move around me, but I might as well be invisible. I try to join in, to say something funny or clever, but the words get stuck in my throat. It's like there's a barrier between me and the rest of the world, a wall that I can't climb over or break through. I feel like a ghost, haunting my own life, unable to participate in it.

  We need a full stop period to end our sentences and our thoughts so we can take a breath and start anew.

The death of attention spans  Is the end of all things  The final curtain Falls on the last act  Of a long, slow play  That has been unfolding  Since the beginning of time.  It is the end of the world  As we know it  And the beginning  Of a new age  Of darkness and despair.  The death of attention spans the death of hope, The death of dreams, And the death of humanity.  It is the end of all things.

The chortles of the children could be heard from the other side of the house. It was a beautiful sound that made everyone smile. Even the grumpiest of people couldn't help but chuckle at the happy noise  

The pressure to speak Is like a weight on my chest A crushing force that won't let me rest I long for the peace of silence But the pressure is always there Pushing and prodding me to share I try to hold it in But the dam always breaks And the words come tumbling out It's a never-ending cycle This battle between silence and speech And I don't know which one to seek