What kind of fool am I?
One that shows no motion
Even though he thinks himself alone

What kind of fool is that?
A soul searching blind man
Who converts sight of facts to fiction

What does he perceive then?
He sees something in nothing
As a fanatical zealot would

What does he believe in?
Nothing, but he still looks
Remnants of God are still with him

Well then he is crazy, insane, a madman even
To search for something he knows isn't there

Yes,
He is only human

I think everyone dies
I truly do
Every time they close their eyes
They remain motionless for hours
Until they are revived

Do you disagree?
Clearly you do
Care to show me your proof
So that it may sway me
To a more accepted pasture


"Well what of their vitality?"
"They still move and shiver"
"And they breathe as if alive"
"Surely if something died"
"Their movement would cease"

Yes, their heart beats, and yes, they awaken
But I truly think they, themselves, leave

Why do I arrive at this?
You mean how,
Through a simple observation
I suppose it, at least, to me
It began like this:

When blackest blanket with yellow dots encircled
The sky and the heavens above
I found myself watched and groped by the air
For someone was watching me
When nobody was there.

Kneeling on your knees
Its all just a funny game
Taking his name in vain

Let it fall like rain
Lock broken with new keys
I now know, see him tame

Oh God,
OH God,
OH GOD,


And now I am left
Without my white dress to wear
He gave it to me clean

I damaged it's shine
Howling his name felt just right
Bathed in his holy stare

Oh God,
OH God,
OH GO-

AHHHHH, JESUS CHRIST

God that was amazing.

Art is dead
Sold out and bought

The artist is dead
Killed by a golden weight

But the artist is now rich
It only took him an hour
To build a house with no foundation
only a week to sell the deception

Wait, where is his skin, did he not shed the white?
It lounges in the shade under a redwood tree

But what does it do, it cannot just sit all the day
It does far more than just become part of a portrait scene

But no one sees him, after all he is just a hollow skin
Struggling to pick the right word, or phrase that completes his fragment
Why does it take him months to complete, why does he not sell for profit?
How do you sell an apology? Can our souls be bought now at market?

He takes long
Because he cares

She motioned for me to move
I repeated my reply
"Do you not wish for my love?"
No I do not wish for lie
"But we should be, cant you see"
No I cannot, remember?
"Please do speak, I need it for m-"

I stood off the bench we shared
She looked as she wished, naive
"Was it you for who he cared?"
I saw the white web she weaved
"You are to he, waves of sea "
Her gaze caught mine, and she sobbed
"Never seek, time kills you and m-"

And then she rushed forward and grabbed my hand
"If I cannot turn back time and have he"
"I wish to never exist"

I combed through her hair to remove the sand
"I'm afraid you never did, but only"
"In my foolish head"

And then she was gone and I was alone
Without comfort, or imagination
I walked to my place calling mothers phone
I laughed, an empty reverberation

"I'm sorry but you were right, he lost mind"
"Never chase a hope, or dream"
"Because I am put in physical binds"
I felt my head start to gleam

Giggling, I broke my phone on the ground
"How can perfection be achieved!" I said
"It cannot," I whispered without a sound
Looking up, there was a solution laid

"Goodbye," finally filled with happy tone

An explosion of peace ripped through my head
And that was all, a single piece of lead
Evidence of my answer
To impossible problems