So when does it end
All the immobility
The lethargy
The sleep?

When do we
Wake up
And smell the balance?

When do we look
To light for peace
Instead of the darkness
Of closed eyes?

When will the
Sounds of silence
Be less comforting
Than the sounds
Of consciousness?

We have all been
Fooled into modesty
By commercializing beauty
And eternalizing life

We forget that
We only have
A limited time here

And those who understand
Yet remain in
A stasis

A dreaming mind

Here he hoped
Only to illustrate
The bone chilling
Silence
With his detached, deflated
Account of life

Fingers and nails
Bloodied from
His public outcry
So fierce
But reform never
Followed

The clamor that rang
In his hears
Was in response
To the chemical covered
Words spoken to him

He is propelled to act
For attention
To curb his sickening
Self inflicted abuse

And his affliction
Leaves sores that
Could put him out
Of life in this world

Fingers eaten by anxiety
One by one
Because the knives no longer
Relieve him

Criss-crossed with cuts
Knuckles swollen
And these days
You can scarcely find
A smile anymore

His eyes
Turn away the most
Powerful men
Like he has
A special disease

His arms
With their maze of cuts
Have a time limit
Before they paint
The path before him
In acid

Each wound represents
A chance for a new
Beginning
Or an end

He just gave in
And forgot himself
Lost himself
Down in the damp, foggy
Recesses of his mind
And lifted the dead
Happiness
And threw it out

He the "Architect of pain"
Built within his mind
The killing room

So you walk

Always the silent
A simple stray
Always the violence
Eyesight is grey

Long trepid treks
Sore necks
And an empty stomach

Strange, familiar sounds

But there is something

Deep inside

Where there was warmth
And fullness

And the memories echo
Here and there
Somewhere
Maybe in a dream

But still
The illness
And the constant will
To move

As if there is
Hope

As if something cares

So you walk
Searching

Searching

Evade the bait
A sickness no doubt
Laying in wait
Don't know what it's about...?

Complain to the "Great" ?
Pay praise to the fake
Pray sayings in "his" grace

Play hymns at his feet
Listen when "he speaks"
Be coy and be meek
Tell me, what do you seek?

Tell me, what did "he" make
Other than hate
And it's wasted
On space in our minds
For the non-straight

This name you create
For an image of a place
With white marble gates

That doesn't exist on this plane

And it drives all insane

We make faces at fate
And laugh at destiny
A testimony that states
"Of the different, we're afraid"

So let's keep it normal
Let's keep it formal
Pretty white lace
And the white matching face

With a smile
That betrays the look in the eye
And that resents the knowledge
That nothing's alright

That something's awry

This "man"

He may or may not
Be deity true
My opinion is shot
And maybe it's you

That I target this time
With my question so strong
"This man in the sky...
...is he wright, is he wrong?"

No substantial proof
Ever points me to clues
But I have no idea
I don't walk in your shoes

So let's be real
Whether reality is heavenly
Or earthly

I don't really feel
Like it's too big a deal
I just hope that you heard me

And my message is this
Whether or not he exists
There's no reason for fits

It led us to fists
And eventually war
First fought with sticks
Then swords in the storm

And it's gotten much worse
And the hate festers still
And the void that we know
A "god" tries to fill

But let's be honest
The belief spread fast
And so did the plague
And so did the deaths
Of the wars in the past

So this brings me back
To the question at hand
"Will it last?"