Time doesn't exist,
I will always be here,
waiting.
For your call.

From a world
beyond,
what my eyes
can see.

I'm ready to go home now,
too.
May the cord wrap
around my neck and
take my breath
away.

Run, fast
and don't look back
at the phantoms who chase you.

For if you look into
the darkness.
It becomes a part of you.

Your imagination
is the foundation of
your reality.

You can never be lost
if you follow the silver-cord trail
all the way home.

Back into
my arms
again.

Sands slyly slipping  
through the hour glass and
Time's moving on.
A lot
faster than
I.
Try to remember the sound of your voice.
But it never works.
Memories serve no purpose
if you cannot tell
what's real and what's pretend.

Brand it,
Bandit.
Livin' the dream,
curse.

Sulking
in the silence
of your sorrows.

Neck deep
in worry waves.
&
I'm drowning, in the
shallow waters of my own.

As I rise from the
grave, you
left me in.

Revenge is the
beat of my heartless
pulse.

Acting without compassion.
In a sick sense.
I think, I'm stronger than before.

Playing the role, perfectly.
I will be the medium
for all the hearts you broke.

& I'll plead insanity when the performance is over.

***-runnin'
to the cemetery.
Goin' grave-diggin',
Tonight.

It's three to three,
and I'll be back
home.

At the half-way
house, in time for
breakfast.

Till then,
I'm chasin'
the ghost.
I used to call my reflection.

Myths and rapid cycling
mood rings.
These are fabled love stories
from the
Book Of Lust.

Memories seen
from rotten eyes.
And all the maggots,
worms, and spiders.

That live inside them.

Truth is always near.
We just gotta dig for it.

For the truth is always
buried beneath lies.