were you there when Punk Rock owned the stage
- the streets, the news?
The *** Pistols played our town
in their very early days
What a mess of music, but I guess that was part the point
I wonder if Sid really did **** Nancy
and I loved his rendition of 'I did It My Way'
One thing I am sure of, they were Poets, and lived it to excess
and spawned a thousand, thousand Haircuts.

They saw the world differently and portrayed it...

...جهان را جور دیگری دیدند و بر من تصویر کردند

"Why are you like this?"

I remember the exact moment
I cut our fate string and stepped
Off the path.
I remember the talk on the bridge,
Feet from where our future
Almost ended and lied to you.

I wanted to take on all the hatred
I could. I wanted the world to hate
Us the way I did
As a form of punishment.
Because what had we ever done
With my life to deserve any of them.

I put out the light all on my own.
We have no one to blame but ourselves
For this non-existence.

"If you could go back, would you do it again?"

If time travel were possible,
I would go back and push you
Off that bridge just so that I never hurt
The people who make all of this suffering
Worthwhile.

"If all this suffering was worthwhile, then why push everyone who has ever loved you past arms length? Why the hell would you choose this type of suffering over the love that could have been? What kind of person does that?"

Sometimes you have to become a villain. The light we carried was almost out
And I acted in what I thoughts our best interest.
Had I known that at the end of the day
It would be just us watching the ruins
Of our world smolder in the wake
Of my mistakes,
I would have chose differently.

why do I want to pack a bowl,
light it up and send my soul
into a marijuana induced haze?

could it be that I'm addicted,
or the dopamine too restricted,
and it just needs a push into my brain?

If only there were words
           to the unspoken verses
           when silence is the only sound

           More than only
           near paralyzing torn,
           weary of searching endlessly
           for what cannot be found
           silence whispering poignantly
           drowning out the midnight rain,
          
           There is no more sorrow
           in search of the lost
           unstrummed guitar chords
           Unwritten psalms
           forever left unsung;
           without amity,
           woe betides an unfinished,
           abandoned heart's song

           Only a heart lonely knows,
           there is no absolving darkness
           whispering of screaming silence
           by night and by day:
           "all things must steal away"  
           not to be thought of wanderings end
           as a  velvety-crimson rosebud
           shamelessly withers brown

           Swirling eddies stir
           a black swan of loneliness
           swimming within the flood
           of raven river waters'
           silently eclipsing
           its pitch black flow

           Muted pleas silent as pity
           blowin' in the fleeting windsong,
           speaking in beckoning salutations
           singing in sweetly beseeching tongues

           Like the hush of a pensive soul,
           once touched by another, moved
           like a bedrock marrowed mountain
           left stifled, stranded and wondering,
           feeling an awkward silence
           when the leaves come falling down

           There are no misbegotten promises
           cast lightly in the moonlight’s restless spell;
           there is no solacing stillness
when silence is the only sound...