Humiliation is a
Tool,
Allowance is a
Fool.

Your status depends on
The control you can
Hold,

And those whom you can
Fold.

Your life depends on nothing
But a silver
Tongue
And a
Golden eye,

A burning will to live
And a will to
Sacrifice.

And I think ‘bout
Everything
More than just
Anything

That the universe could
Give,

Sometimes it means
Everything
Sometimes it means
Nothing

At all.

A man would give all of
Him
Just to lose most of it,
Just to get some of it back,

Or nothing

At all.

I, I’ve,
I, I’ve—

I’ve dug a grave
Deep into the ground
Filled with hail and rain
And foul

Words that burrow
Further
Than any other
Worm

Than any other
Word

Painted portraits
Contorted faces
They’re laced
With malice
And filled
With hatred

The pictures of the
Dead
They stare
Straight ahead

No goal
In mind
No destination
In sight

When they give their
Final bow
How’s the world to
Spin around

When the weight befalls
A fallen tapestry
Without a sound

Every step you take
Is disturbance
And breaking of the
Silence

The wake

That resides
With
The fallen,
The silent,
The gone.

If “I love you”
Was a burden,
Would you still
Eagerly return it?

If “I hate you”
Was a warning
Would you still
Say it so easily?

“I mean it, really I do.”
Then why is it filled
With insincerity?

A joke,
            A bluff,
                         It always is.

But do you

Weigh
           The meaning
                                  Of the words you spit?