My story began in an old world, where I fell in love for the first,
I remember exactly the time when she quenched a thirst
I didn't know I had until it blinded me,
and from my fantasy, she set something unbelievable free

the world shifted to bring us to a collision course,
everything she was, her smile, her hair, her eyes, were the like of which beauty is sourced

We fell in love on Christmas eve,
and did what love commanded-- a promise never to leave
but her words were weak; they eventually broke
so I did what rationality had me, and hung from a ***** rope

In hell, where I thought I would meet the Devil,
instead, I met Ariel,
the arc angel of love,
"You denied life; you denied love," he said, with thunder roaring from above,
"You denied me"
"In place of eternal misery, You will be heaven's comedy,"

For my blasphemy, I was cursed me with the name "Cupid,"
I am to spend all walks of life spending love, but never feel it.

I am nothing,
I know nothing,
all I see is changing,
all that lives is dying,
until the sun is done giving

I'm not insane,
I'm just in pain
not the kind that hurts, however, the kind that stains
and washes us away like blood in a heavy rain
but we all go on pretending we were born to reign,
to forget our life is meant to live and die in vain,
a truth made all too plain
by Adam's sons, Abel and Kane

So see, I'm not insane, for it's all been written,
from the beginning, we were born beaten,
and the powers that be, the big fat men,
they all laugh and call us heathens

My only crime was human love,
a clear and divine sign from God above,
that life is meant to spend in bliss,
but you already made a list,
of things you want and things you don't,
and on that list, I was a con

I never wanted to be me;
My skin, it kills,
and my glare cuts deep.

I never wanted to reap,
whether to oblivion or divinity.

all I've ever wanted was to be free,
to make my own path; to be just me.

But life has ****** me to see cruelty feed,
to strip me of mourn, to strip me of fear.

So I pray and hope when end is near,
my fate as death will disappear.

I am like a crow without a ******,
fated eternal nights to fill with wonder,
My wings are not weak, but I cannot leave the ground,
it is my mind that is the weight that holds me down.
I am stranded in a realm I will not survive,
and the locals, well, all they do is criticize.

They will never understand the sights I've seen,
the great heavens above, like mount Olympus that makes earth obscene.

All I ask for is to again fly,
with red feathers bleeding from the sky,
but I am alone this night, and every other.
if this is punishment, when will it be over?

I've seen dishonesty at first hand,
and the success it brings the plan;
and to the planner, eternal greatness,
so why should I be more than lawless.

I lived with it; I laughed with it; I called it friend.
I learned from it that whatever comes in end,
your selfishness must always shadow your sins.

It's just another mental war,
when all the voices rise against the cause,
and the lights we aspire illuminates our faults.

To think only a god can take away this plight--
this white fire that screams through the pitch black night--
when all I've done is curse their names and challenge their right.
But now I can finally see. There is no strength left in me to end this fight.

Write a song for me,
something I will remember in the morning,
because right now, there's nothing in my head worth remembering,
just an unclear image of what I'm becoming,

So write me a song,
And before long,
I will repay you for this wrong,
but for now, do me this favor and give me a place I belong.

They say when your heart is broken,
the heart dies,
that is just a lie to heal a moment,
the truth is, the heart is well alive,
it sprouts like a tree, oozing blood, pain, and torment
you pretend you don't feel; you pretend you are petrified,
but you feel it: every stab, every burn, every torn tendon

So is Cupid's trickery,
so is the curse of love:
an immortalized heart to spend eternity in misery.

Deep into the shadows of the whispering cold
comes into life the talks of the old,
along they shout such tales to be told,
of beauty, of lies--what madness unfolds,
and the form that they take, and the faces they hold,
devised a reflection to capture my soul,
the one thing that matters, the sole thing I'm owed,
would not have been mine were I not so bold.

Like statues and lamps are alone when they stand,
alone here I am with no love and no friend,
so despite how far and wide I extend my hand,
still the voice echoes I am ******,
until eternity makes her final dance,
to take me to the realm of old men

I am known for a hundred thousand reasons to be hated,
This, a foretold punishment for denying what's fated.

Finally, you are better than me,
I say, and yield my sword and shield, and take a knee.

Forgive me, if you will, my only crime:
assuming I could live my way this life of mine.

Before men were the Giants,
massive, strong, and free to be defiant,
they were ethereal, magical, and without distractions,
and their celestial bodies were filled with formless actions,

But then came the humans with simplicity,
reacting harshly to specificity,
thus ending the reign of the mighty Giants,
and entered the age of humans and tyrants,
which seemed to consume all signs of happiness,
and issue in a world of madness.

My ears are deaf by the siren
a cold death took my skin
your perfect face changing the mood
your lips moving to your beat
a heart pound
a word escaping the vacuum
you are leaving
I am dying

a crack to the pillars of reality
Atlas, the great titan that holds heaven, gave
my world began to cave
another word to the hunt
sanity fled
the ending of an era
the turning of the tides
a last smile to say goodbye

like Pandora opening her treasured box
like a horror in midnight's eye
pain melted into armor
tears melted into dust
love melted into fire

I met a bird that couldn't fly,
and a fish that couldn't swim;
I met an owl that hated the night,
and a bee that couldn't sting,

And they all asked me, "why?"
I said, "because some of us are made of the broken parts of our better,"
so they asked, "Then how do we get by?"
I answered, "maybe if we stick together,"
and we all laughed so hard, we cried.

We are all being hunted,
so, we run through time,
tripping who we were behind.

quickly, we stretch  our existence,
with foolery to save what's weakened.

But even then, even there, the rider follows,
gracefully hopeful to fill what's hollowed.

She is a reminder that all things, even pain, fades,
and we... well, our turn is long awaited.

Here I'm faced with the decision of gods and devils:
a single, poor, and lonely moment to test my evil.

My mind is starved, and my heart aches.
My unfortunate soul begs, "prithee, a break."

When next I wait; when the hour says I'm too late,
I could have molded the promised nights with your fate.

So now, the water inside rises to your eyes,
and still upon this subject my judgement flies.

But we will survive this,
forever shaken, and however less our bliss.

I felt it leave that night,
The deep whisper inside the blight.
A tyrant voice with a song of reason.
hardy, bruised, and fiercely seasoned.

It left in the icy winter wind,
taking the last good thing a good man defends.
The last good thing that makes a man,
now a hollowed creature with an act to pretend.

War, in this time is all the chatter,
an unwrapped present left by our fathers,
to fight and die, to keep what's ours,
before our time begin to sour.

War is the echo that awakes peace,
a brutal moral taken from beasts,
before the new world was all but seized,
to cultivate human disease.

War, the best way we have to take what's another's,
the best way to ignore a child's bother,
but if we are so far evolved,
why must war be our prime resolve?

I say the human race is one of virtue,
noble and kind, and made of truth,

despite transgression and in all they are wrong,
it must be realized that they are still so young,

and look to all the care and greatness they've fashioned,
hope and will and goodness guiding their action,

when fumble, they panic and doubt and forsake all their self,
to a tempest and dark-wind to raise their distress

with that, in their worst, they are not as bad as they know,
so leave them to my watch, and I'll see that they grow.

I remember war
I remember the last step from the door
I remember the bird that flew me by
and left me pondering the sky
I remember this feeling
The sun, the air, the smell I've been missing
I remember the sound
and the scream of my hometown
telling me I'm finally home
and I can rest these war-torn bones

Politics is our last name,
it's where morality is slayed,
and our mind become stained,

You think kindness will save the world?
You think protest will help them learn?
You think peace is a clear word?
This is earth,
learn to survive it, or die its worse.

Birds took to the sky in a frenzy,
stirring up the wind and blowing white clouds into black.
what was once calm and fair became nervously uneasy,
and each step left the mark of failed generations on our backs.

Hesitantly the moment matures,
almost the like of children who refuses to grow.
Words were too ready to meet the future,
but I was too scared to admit what was so clear a blind man could hold.

The radio turned to play the same old song.
We've danced to it a thousand times, if I can count.
Never before have I ever loved for so long.
Never before have my heart ever taken so far down,
when you came and said the words I was too much a coward to utter:
"Baby, we need to talk," you broke the ominous silence,
and carefully and gently crafted the weapon of my ******.

In bullying noise, I was forced to grow into a boy.
There, I learned that truth and lie are the same,
Like the great Sphinx-a beast with my face.

That's the kind of world we are left to live in,
where to survive another day, we must hide deeper what's within:
the faceless smiles on the face of servers; the fake words spoken to make clever, and the grand gestures to buy favors.

I am not perfect, and I hate the word,
but at least I'm honest; at least my visage reflects the world.

"Here son, see all this world I've heeded,"
"And in it I've allowed wolf and sheep,"
"The west to the first, and to the second, the east,"
"If ever, by chance or tragedy, they should meet,"
"They will understand that it was not meant to be,"
"for one is wolf, and the other, sheep,"
"more destined to part than a babe to weep,"

"And should they meet to discuss philosophy,"
"They will see to neither side reasonably,"
"for one is wolf, and the other, sheep,"
"neither is right nor wrong, but to the west, the wolf, and to sheep, the east,"

Understanding sometimes seem like a natural destiny.
It seems something we are born of or born from, and shrouded in mystery.

Where the truth is rarely clear and the lies are deafeningly loud,
and all life is met at the crossroad, where they are bent or bowed.
There, a World Maker decides; a new world to be born.
And reality is stretched in two and, of course, torn.
One pulled to the left and the other dragged to the right.
But in you, a sure fear yours was made of untested blight.
And understanding?
Well, that's gone. Gone as suddenly as it was a kind of thing.

Love is maddening.
What we know of it is pitiful and saddening.
But a decision must be made.
So, again, I'll test my fate.

If you're worried about me,
don't worry about me.
you see, I'm almost home,
and I've grown an addiction for being alone.
When mistress love draws too close,
remember, I was baptized in fire to cleanse my soul.

I poisoned my mind to think clearer,
I stabbed my heart to see the meaning of deader,
so no, let's not play the game "who's crazier,"
cause whatever you do, I promise you, I'll do better.

When your lips begin the words, "I miss..."
allow me, it was you who left me dismissed
so don't worry about me, love
even when it seems I'm falling from above
I'm not, I'm just flying upside down,
so you don't see me frown