And the wind did shake the dust
In preparation for the rain
To wash away the dirt.
No one asked any questions,
And no one stared at the Earth-
As everything they stood on
Throughout their entire lives
Was blown away.
  By the wind.
        The Wind. of Change.

Tip your glass o' worry down the drain.
Watch it siphon out,
Leaving emptiness behind.

It's time to do your dishes,
And try a different wine.

If I could but see
Through the eyes of a lover,
Cause the world is sickening,
Thoughts cloud my mind.
She sits there smilin'
Cause I love her

Cause some how It's fine.
In her eyes, not mine,
The problems in the world, and after.

While I sit confused,
She sits amused
And near to laughter,
But holds, to plainly say,
"Is it sadness you're after?"

It strikes me silent,
Though the thoughts do not relent-
Until my last breath/regret.
And it's finally clear-
                                     It didn't matter.

Stand at my door,
Young succubus.
Give me the passion of a *****.
Drench me in your bliss.
Addle my silly mind,
Make me feel this-
Confusion flooding over,
Struck by your kiss.
Take me to grow old, succubus
So nothing will feel amiss.

Have you got a knife?
Hell yeah I've got a knife
Give it here-
Need to cut me a slice of strife.
Everlasting, have at-
My strife,
As I Strike. Strike. Strike.

Another day has gone.
Churned into dust,
Living out life
Like the milling of hours.

Slow, monotonous work
Of wasting potential
Desperately clinging to our lazy comforts,
Like lice to a hair disturbed.

Once we were challenged
To make something for ourselves-
To make something of ourselves.
The new-age view
Makes being you
Look just like
          Being everyone else.