What has the world become,
when zombies have jumped out of their TV screens.
Faces of men in the streets of Miami,
have been gnawed off by human teeth.

Bath salts empower the mind.

And now "zombie" is dead;
shooters introduced him to his grave.
Do they have that right?

Sweet world, there are sinister things living within your confines.

Stop crying, stupid girl
it's for the self-pitied and the weak
your time for weeping is done
now get back on your feet.

Stop crying, stupid girl
no harm has been inflicted on you
continue to wear that heart on your sleeve
send me a letter from where it gets you.

Stop crying, stupid girl
its much to far away
to dwell on things that can't be changed
it's a game only fools will play.

Stop crying, stupid girl
and look into the reflection
you know that this girl isn't you
now, bring yourself back to perfection.

Just sit there
and speak of me.
Look at me out of the corner of your eye.
Make yourself
feel better
about your lacking intelligence.
Think
that I care.
Think
that you're affecting me.
Please, continue to practice this skill
that you will carry with you for your lifetime.
Seeing as it the only one you possess
I applaud you for finding it.
But
while you are wasting your time
on things you
think
you're accomplishing.
I am here.
With the one I love.
Perfectly unaffected by your
attempt
at cruel words.

Streaming through your chest,
is a whirlpool of endlessness,
an endlessness of possibility,
a possibility of feeling.

A feeling which lifts you high,
from the world the eye sees,
the eye sees the bitter life,
bitter life of sheep-like people.

Sheep-like people move along,
through a twisted vicious circle,
a vicious circle created by the sly,
the sly foxes who play for gain.

But gain by play you don't,
for you see past all the nonsense,
nonsense is the name of the game,
the game that you won't play.

You won't play, you won't be herded,
for in your chest there's a whirlpool,
a deep heavy whirlpool of endlessness,
an endlessness of wise awareness.