Content in my reason, I indulge my future distress
Feckless friends and fiends lie...together
Our homemade misery surmounts
Indeed, we do have a habit of making habits

This Intention for contention is our invention
A fleet of reckless daggers flow from my mouth
I decimate past and present alike
Thus, the future flees from my nearsighted discourse

My dreams vehemently elude themselves far from my sight
Devoid of ambition, I fall from the sky with Lucifer and all of his friends
These means will never be justified
Choleric, we are vexed by our sugar-coated ends

This silence overtakes us
We are lucid metaphors of our former-selves
I lie awake and wake to lie
My half-empty bottle is never fulfilled, and never content

My heart is a home of chaos
A passionate portrait of selfishness
I am a kin to fruitless endeavors
Forgetting sense, I meagerly float throughout this wretched discourse...

I writhe inside this sentiment--
A ghost of all I lost
The words I wrote were sealed and sent
Regardless of the cost

Dysfunction thrives inside my heart--
With empathy as vice
I'm just the one to play this part
What lust did I entice?

Until this day, I dared to dream--
And, lost my weary mind
Although I learned to plot and scheme:
The blind had led the blind

I never question why I stayed
My demons always scream:
'How could you pose this vexing trade:
A bottle for a dream?'...

Apart from my Reason in all of my schemes:
I gave up pretending to live in Her dreams
My vexing ambition for solace had turned
By then, the intrigue of our love brightly burned

Our hearts were pretenders which writhed in the dust
From Love to deception, deception to lust
Content in our sorrow, we buried our shame
We played with our motives, assigning the blame

With demons as counsel, we came out at night
The words which we peddled were senseless and trite
Devoid of ambition, I gave up the ghost
Of All My Intention, I miss Her the most

I wake in this silence with all of my thoughts
With each passing second, our trust slowly rots
Between my synapses, I find Her asleep
Disgruntled, this silence is all we would reap...

A vivid ambition pursues me--
I trip, head-long, into frivilous deceit
My heartstrings quiver with envy
Solace evades its temperament

The perception I had peddled fled from me
Its estranged discourse won't stay grounded
My heart beats like the empty seconds
Here, deceit is my faceless mistress

My mind is aligned to naïve regret--
Tossing and turning throughout the night
I gave up my morals in seconds
Now, I am my own Accuser**

A mind in crisis precedes me--
There is no place to crawl towards volition
I fight tooth-and-nail with my conscience
In the end: The Silence Overtakes Us...

Her lungs are black--
Insomniac
Her Love is free
She's after me
I'm up all night
My words are trite
Our will is dead
I toss in bed
We're doomed indeed
Our vice is greed
Three hearts had Lied
We're dead inside
Our pride won't mix
We conjure tricks
With words unsaid
What faith is dead?
Thus, lust is left
With minds, bereft
Had we not learned...
That Love is earned?...

Of All My Intention: choleric and kind
I built an excursion, still feckless and blind
Through all of the chances I seldom had placed:
My mind was mistaken, my heart was defaced
I fell for a Dreamer, and She fell for me
With All Our Intention, our eyes couldn't see

When silence was golden, we fell for much less
There's much to remember, and more to confess
What hearts had we planted with all of our schemes?
We dream in the Darkness, and live in our dreams
Our Reason is chained to irrational castes
We yearned for the future, and buried our pasts

What once was ambition had turned into dust
From Love to affection, affection to lust
Our faces show sorrow; they come out at night
With each new perception, our hearts had grown trite
These hearts we had melded were built in the dark
From All Our Intention, our Fears disembark...

I writhe in ambiguity
Though the past would send their best
My will is lazily over-thrown
As I build my own gallows

I hit bedrock--
Yet still, frantically dig with more fervor
My mind is an empire on the brink of collapse
With Regret as my only ally

I threw my aspiration to the wolves
Dreaming is but a subtle luxury:
'My vivid hallucination of deceit'
Pawns have put my king in check

The side of life cries to me
I feverishly run to my grave
My heart is the product of my own dissent
Indeed, my own Intention mocks me

I am a puppet, sewn to these vices
Comfort escapes from me
My anxiety is the sum of a plethora of sins
So, when will I be written out of the story?...