and, as I breath in,
The airs limbs tare me apart
And purge me of my sin,
The smoke of days and nights
Form a cocktail for me to sip,
That fills me up with a love-like fight
I'm not sure anyone wins.

Ten percent of the world are evil,
For them we made the Hearse,
The other percent are boring...
Perhaps that's even worse.

It feels like a waiting game,

there is just,

nothing,

we are all born with a noose around our neck,

the rope woven with exaustion and the monotonous blanket that engulfed us after turning twenty five,

it's pulling us closer to the enevitable - that

nothing,

we are benevolant in it's arms!



What are we doing here?

what are we achieving?

What is the point!

the sheer unimportance of us as a person,

is omnipresent in my mind and i can't cope.



Why do we compete like this to survive,

to fill ourseleves with pretty trials and challenges,

why do we love when it will only lead to heart break?

Why do we awaken when we will only sleep again?

Why do we live just to put off the

nothing.

Society engulfs like an iconoclastic wave,

it will take and take until there is nothing left to save,

what is the beauty in the normal,

of looks, of eloquence and intelligence,

why should we be beaten down,

until there is nothing left to salvage,

until we are average,

until we as people fit what is 'right',

two hands, two feet and not a fright,

of an invasion of ideas,

of thoughts and beings,

of people who see through the boundary’s others have put up,

in every second that passes through their material frame,

because really it is not just simply luck,

that allows their avid brain,

to gain, whilst other people's fears leave them stuck.

Strapped down

Unable to move

Away to the lands that are

New


See what you will

Understand what you can

But you will never be allowed to venture or stand


We are united in our ignorance

In the way we cant fathom

Any difference

We don’t want to understand

Instead exult in stupidity

It overwhelms us

And now we pity


Those that are able

To see what we cant

To take out their eyes

from the worlds slant


With its indifference to ugly

And its love of false beauty


Things that won’t last

And words that have passed


Their ability to Express

what is true

And their ingenious quality

of letting little else through.

To need,
To hold,
To be,
The ice,
The fire,
The sea,
Movement in the masses,
Frozen into solids,
With no one leaking out,
Eyes stopped from their wandering,
Your mind is slowly longing,
To understand about,
Inexplicable silence,
Eyes violent,
Tides now so high!
The way your hand will always grasp,
And not for me -
But a way to say goodbye.