Can I say I am the brightest?
Of course not;
I am only as smart
If I don't allow myself to be a fool;

Can I say I am dull?
Absolutely not;
Only if I can convince myself
That what I am is a fool;

Can I say I am a ruler?
Not a chance;
Nobody ever gives power
To a fool with a brain;

Can I say I am a prophet?
Never in a million years;
Only a fool
Would make such an argument;

Can I say I am a man?
Indeed I can;
Because a man
Is neither smart nor daft;

But is it possible to be bright and a fool?

I walk outside to a welcome autumn day;
The crows caw excitedly
As do I
For tomorrow I could be happy;

I observe a leaf, its descent like a sharp legato;
The colors like a contrasting chorus of sheen
That chooses to fight, as do I
For tomorrow I could be happy;

The dame in an O so fragrant light;
A woman I feel can do no wrong
Flees from my scent, and I resume
For tomorrow I could be happy;

A year may pass, and the soul could leave my body
With not even a whisper;
Its decay is silent and gradual, just like me
For tomorrow I may be happy;

Knowledge builds a fortress on the outskirts of my being
But God knows it won't last long;
Its defenses, though sizeable, are far from impressive,
Just like mine
For tomorrow I could be happy;

And the Lord that had birthed me;
He who brings about both scorn and boon
Even has flaws, but nothing compared to mine
For tomorrow I could be happy;

The captain who knows
No quarter
Fires blindly
As his crewmates
Bawl and scream
As his orders reach no foe

Yet here is he
That which God punishes
Or perhaps man himself
As the waves crash
And hulls, too

Can we be saved
From his wrath
That O so besieges
What was once
A fair and laden battle?

He strikes the albatross
And its sailors
As his blood
Boils the water
That surrounds him
And his children, too

His hat means naught
To those he curses might
Even as he checks his compass
With a twitch so unsightly
That he blows a hymn
In regret

Thus tells the tale
Of a man so blind
So bold
So noble
That his aggression
Is both told
In grace and in seawater
That chokes the lives
Of those blackened
By his desires

The mechanism that is life itself,
Unending in its progress;
It makes me wonder, however,
If its cycle could be ceased?

But life is no ordinary being,
Its controls are far too complex
For any simple man to comprehend
Lest he be branded mad;

Very few can break its bonds
Or even seize its securities;
But there are ways to do so

Watch as one by one
The fuel that life runs on slowly runs out;
And this method is so simple
That even the most incompetent can participate

Simply cut off its supply
And the process will cease;
Life cannot and will not restart,
For once there is no fuel,
Not even artificial life will budge from death's constraints

I couldn't feel it, that penetrating glare
That pierced my skin
And stopped at my own consciousness;
O, such a shame;

Bringing about the fall of Constantinople
With just a dagger;
Yet here I am,
A soul with a stick;

Bring me a peace for myself
And may my mind slaughter
Opposition from all sides,
Even those who seek to reconstruct;

Do they not see?
A justice to my being
In the form of nothingness
That changes me tenfold;

God fears me
But so does Lucifer;
I can stand taut in the face of a tyrant
And move even the most stoic of statues;

But if one can move anything,
How can he move thyself?

The world settles inside the little box she calls jail;
She is jovial, yet cannot escape,
She is tranquil, yet restless;
Would she even want to awaken?

I hear her
She calls to me, yet the voice is not hers,
Or is it?
I call out to her, yet all I hear is my own thoughts,
A harsh reality

Her crimes are what brought her here,
But what has she committed?
Her slate is clean, but her soul could not be more *****
As the dried blood stains her locks

In one final breath, I sing:
"Hear me and heed me!
I wish to save you from your jail!
Your suffering could be mine,
You only need to heed my call!"

Has she heard me?
I'll never know,
She is stuck inside her own box
Where our voices reach blank walls