These lonely nights, just don’t feel right.
Times like this there is no sight of feeling like everything is warm and tight.
The way you felt when you where young and mom tucked you in bed at night.

Complete emptiness, a mad sensation of senselessness covers your eyes.
Consumed with lies, choked and tied, tears falling as you quietly cry.
No one will know, because no one will show compassion enough to ask why.

Why would anyone care about you, greed and selfishness is now the rule.
Broken hearts and paralyzed minds like great knights ready to duel.
No winner will be announced as they both lay dead in there own red pool

Screams pierce only the silence that the ears will no longer hear and simply disappears.
Cheers from self righteous reckoning steers all to near with no since of shame that came from the insane motives of fear, if only for a second to step back and look in the mirror.

Consuming every thought like a mop, which soaks up slop, leaves only solitude.
Controlling the mood and every move, hollow veins now run through each and every inch of you.

Unbreakable chains, binding there only game, yet eventually rust in the rain.
Freedom follows, then comes tomorrow, nevertheless the numbness maintains.
Despite all the pain that remains, somehow contained and remain, sane.

Breathing is no longer an option, death is humanities consumption.

Cross sections of my affections, leads me in my own direction.
So far away, an akin time a different day, a similar feeling that’s just not the same.
So believe in a memory, and let confusion remain, to take its place.

Wondrously lost with my compass, but completely aware, of the constant gazes and stares, culturally conscious that I don’t fit in, but never will I care to be one of them.
This breath I take is mine, so don’t look at me like it’s a crime that I refuse to live between your prefabricated lines.

All these hearts and minds filled with greed, gluttony, lust, and lies, now with
Steps taken in self preservation, exploration rarely find modest ties to who we are inside.
Time quickly trickles away and there goes another day that never stops to say goodbye.

As I stare back at myself I know all this pain, and all the shame came from the lame, and now has become a perminate stain in the picture frame that is my life.

Tossing and turning all night, tryn’ to fight, all the demons that come to me even in the daylight.

My stomach turns and my soul burns at the thought of all the constant worry that I’ve fir-minted in the mist of constant bad decisions.

Changing the past is not an option, but the past has lead me to where I am today, far and away to far gone to change the way I lived yesterday.

The present frame of mind is to just fly, and fry the burden that I've brought, to stop this implementation as an act of compassion.

Self realization rests on the heart of the weary, but I have just barely started, and I think I've finally found out what is truly scary.