Pink, purple, blue
I wonder why it is like this
I wonder when it got like this
Pouncing onto every chance I can get

Running away
From what am I running
Far away is all that I want
Running is what I think I want to do

I want nothing to do with anyone
Yet I want to be close to them
Yearning to hug them when they feel sad
I can't because I'm here, only a few can I reach

So close, yet so far
Seems to be a pattern
For a lot of things
Fire is what should surround me to warm the others while I burn
Nothing changes it seems
yet
Everything is different

It either 'coronation'
or some truths shoved down your throat
with no regrets
that launches the world into a dizzy subtle hate
that pecks the reality of peasants
wearing his masters shoes

And your fate is choked and weighed down
and the world keeps pounding, hating, drowning your existence
cause there's no love or Justice
when you're a filth with no worth  

Your master believes
submission is your natural state
cause your ancestors taught you
why would an ant  quarrel with a boot?

Here you are
afraid to have dreams and hope
crying for your progenies impending peril
and there's no knight or a hero in sight

We are in a maze of creations,
where life breeds insanity
and the only sane one is
the artist.