I can’t hear you; you’re lying through your teeth, a meaningless whisper, of something you’d like to keep. I can’t hear you, you’re lying though your teeth, maybe just maybe it’s something to me, but I cannot hear you not even a peep, yes I cannot hear you, through your lying teeth. Oh why, can I not cry for something I wish to always die, oh why, please let me go, for maybe just maybe I’ll forget to know, the pain that you’ve caused from the pain that I’ve seen, so maybe I’ll hear you, through your lying teeth.

Rawr went the dinosaur, or so I'm told, staring at a reality oh so col,d shaking mountains, shaking grounds, all reaching endless bounds, because what reality, what formality, because we don't know, what we don't see, so we'll never understand, this, reality

Boom went the dynamite, but it's too late for us to fight, down in the final round, not knowing who's going to bring us down, so let us stand, so let us lead, and maybe just maybe, we'll be the king and queen.

Tick-Tock, a turning clock, wound by fear, but filled with knots

Funny, how some of us think of it
Each to there own I guess
Although none of them
Realise that being

Away from reality
Leads to pain
of which no one escapes
No one chooses
Even if they chose it…

Doing so not on their own
Even though they are alone
Peeking into reality fearing what it really is
Reaching behind closed doors
Each time for something farther
So that they do not go too far
So that they never get too close
In a faltered reality
Of which deprives you of clarity
Nothing could be much worse

I am tired of this dream, of this reality, forever pleading for insanity, knowing, wishing for this to leave me. I know it chases me, I see it never leaves me, a consumption to which meets no end… This insanity is something that brings the sane to their bow, it lets them see something ‘normal’, ’normal’. ‘Normal’, quite the interesting word, “conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected: it's quite normal for people to cry”. Normal, it’s what people strive for, work towards, and the people that don’t, fall. They never get up, people tell them “Get up!”, “Shake it off!”, never looking more than the skin deep, they don’t see any pain. On the inside they tremor, knowing they will never be their image, knowing they’ll never be normal. So what do they do? well most let that pain consume them, and their world becomes a void, non-existent of care or happiness, and dreams, the slim shutter between pain and joy; continue to fade. Others decide to stand, some can grab onto what’s left of reality while others, they sink faster, spiral into more pain, more depression, into reality, into themselves, until…. until they hit the truth when they can’t fall any more, they stand up high, higher than those that made them low, just to tie the last part of their life, a noose around their neck